We Were So Much Older Then
by ICanStopAnytime
Summary: Tami and Eric are starting their journeys at nearby colleges, but the path that leads to adulthood is windy and full of stumbling stones, and they're going to need to pick each other up along the way. A sequel to "Tutoring Tami."
1. Prologue

_…A self-ordained professor's tongue_  
 _Too serious to fool_  
 _Spouted out that liberty_  
 _Is just equality in school._  
 _'Equality,' I spoke the word_  
 _As if a wedding vow._  
 _Ah, but I was so much older then_  
 _I'm younger than that now._

 _…Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats_  
 _Too noble to neglect_  
 _Deceived me into thinking_  
 _I had something to protect._  
 _Good and bad, I define these terms_  
 _Quite clear, no doubt, somehow._  
 _Ah, but I was so much older then_  
 _I'm younger than that now._

\- Bob Dylan, "My Back Pages"

 **PROLOGUE  
[Season 5, Episode 13]**

" _I'm not young enough to know everything." – Oscar Wilde_

"We just don't want you to rush into it," Tami told her daughter as she and Eric sat across from Julie and Matt at the table of a fancy restaurant. "Because _you_ don't _**need**_ to."

Eric glanced at her, questioningly, as though to ask, _Did you feel like_ _ **you**_ _needed to?_

Tami and Eric were fighting now, one of their worst fights in years. It was easy to second guess at a time like this.

"Right," Julie said, "We're not rushing into anything. It's not like we're getting married tomorrow. And you guys were our age when you got married."

"That was a different time," Eric insisted.

He said that as though they'd gotten married in the 18th century. Sure, it was a different time, Tami agreed, but it wasn't _that_ different. Few of their peers had been married at their age.

"Well," Tami said, "we were a little bit older."

Tami wanted Julie to have her degree first, to be able to concentrate first and foremost on school, the way she herself never quite could. She wanted Julie to have something to fall back on. Matt was a good kid, but a woman needed to establish herself before marriage. If she didn't, she might end up following her husband around, subservient to his career.

Tami had never thought of herself that way before, as _subservient_. She'd always thought of herself as _supportive_. But lately, she was beginning to wonder. It was so easy to get stuck in a pattern, a way of doing things, and then when you tried to get out of the rut you'd dug for yourself, you just might pull an avalanche down on top. That's how she felt now: if she tried too hard to climb, their marriage might be buried. You couldn't bury a marriage that was almost two decades old. Not for a job in Philadelphia, no matter how much you wanted it.

"You were still in college," Julie insisted.

"It was a different time," Eric repeated, as though everyone around them had been getting married before graduation, as though _anyone_ around them had been getting married. People did, sure, but not anyone they knew personally. They'd only met married people at college after they themselves were married and had moved into married family housing, and the vast majority of those couples had been graduate students, not college students like them.

"I love your daughter, I love Julie, and I want to marry her," Matt said. "That's it."

Eric was staring off in a partial daze. Tami had no idea what he was thinking. They'd sat at a dinner table very much like this once, with Eric's father, announcing their own engagement.

"Maybe you don't understand what I'm saying, Matt," Eric said. "Marriage requires maturity. Marriage requires two people, who _for the rest of their lives_ " He emphasized that, Tami thought, as though to warn her against trying to get out of this marriage, as though to remind her that they were in this forever, no matter how much they fought - "are willing to listen. To really listen to each other."

Why was he saying that? Had he listened to her about this job? No. He was suggesting _she_ should listen to _him_ about the Panthers job.

"And that marriage requires the greatest of all things, which is compromise."

He was right. There was no way to follow two divergent paths while holding hands. One or the other or both had to compromise. Something had to be given up in order for something to be gained. But why did it seem Tami was always the one giving up her goals to gain stability in the marriage? She didn't doubt that Eric loved her, or that he appreciated her, or that he was a good and faithful man, but why couldn't he pay the larger price for once?

"We're willing to make it work," Julie said. "You guys were married at our age. How many different jobs have you had? How many times have you moved?"

How many indeed, Tami thought. How many times for Eric's career?

"And how many difficult things have you gone through?" Julie continued.

Eric looked at Tami. Memories may have been avalanching in his mind, the way they were in hers, mingled with the present disagreement. They had pulled through a lot over the years, loved each other through the challenges, stuck together while those around them divorced. They'd invested years in this marriage, countless fights and reconciliations, laughter and tears and sighs and moans.

Tami nodded, the tears pooling in her eyes. She wanted this job, but she wanted this marriage more.

Why couldn't she have both?

"And you guys pulled through," Julie said. "You guys are my inspiration."

What was Tami inspiring her daughter to do, precisely? To sign away her own goals on the dotted line of a marriage license?

She was about to burst into tears, and so she excused herself.

Eric came to her, as he always eventually did when they fought. He didn't apologize. He didn't tell her he would give up the contract for her dreams. He just held her. He was just there, a rock that was never going to go away. And there was some comfort in that. Some comfort in his arms around her.

Some comfort, but not enough.

"It's my turn, babe," she told him. "I have loved you and you have loved me, and we have compromised. _Both_ of us. For _your_ job."

At the moment, the scales felt terribly uneven to her. She wasn't thinking of her unwillingness to follow him to Austin, how she had kept her career in Dillon instead of following him, or how he had eventually given up that prestigious job to preserve the family. She was thinking instead of how she had, from day one, followed him to college, how she had quit her first good, post-college job to move for his, how, eventually, she had decided she might as well just be a full-time, stay-at-home mom, rather than keep starting over at the bottom of the rung. "And now it's time to talk about doing that for my job."

He pulled away from her. He couldn't _listen_ to that, could he?

"Because otherwise, what am I going to tell our daughter?" That marriage was not really a union between two equals, because the man's career came first? That Julie had a choice between marriage or realizing her personal goals, but she could never have both?

Eric said nothing. He wouldn't fight with her, but he wouldn't bend either. She brushed the tears violently from her eyes. "You just can't…."

He was a rock, yes. Reliable, dependable - but also unmovable. He didn't change with the time.

"Let's just go back inside. Come on."

 **[*]**

On the drive home, Eric had nothing to say, except, "Why does Julie keep saying _you guys_ all the time now? You guys. You guys. She wasn't in Chicago that long. What's wrong with y'all?"

"I don't know, hon. That's just what she says." Tami turned her head to look out the window. "You can't always have the world the way you want it."

[*]

Tami gave.

There was nothing else to do but give.

The marriage was too old, too valuable.

And there could be no democracy of two.

 **[*]**

Eric came to her again, as he so often did, only after a period of private reflection.

This time he ran down the escalator to her in the mall, to tell her he _would_ compromise for her.

He would move to Philadelphia.

And as he kissed her, she thought of their long journey to this point, of the stops and starts, the leaps forward and the stumbles back, and of how, whatever his flaws or her flaws, they'd always found a way to love each other . . .


	2. 8-20-1988: Meeting the Roommate

**[Saturday, August 20, 1988]**

As Tami and Eric caravanned from their hometown of Tyler to Waco, Texas, where he would play for Baylor University and she would try to jump-start her academic future at Waco Community College, they used a couple of walkie talkies Eric had been given by his aunt for his 12th birthday.

"You all right up there?" Tami asked, holding the walkie with one hand and looking at him in his pick-up. He'd passed her and taken the lead a few miles back. "You look like you're doing some kind of weird dance. Over."

"Shoulders are just sore," he replied. "I was rotating them." She could hear sports radio playing softly in the background. She needed peppy music when she drove on long trips. "You have no idea how hard coach ran us during training. Over."

"Well, sugar, I'm looking forward to your first game of the season. Over."

"I'm looking forward to trying out that futon when we get you settled in your apartment. Over."

Tami chuckled. "That might have to wait. I don't think I'm going to meet my roommate and then go straight to the bed with you. Besides, I think I took pretty good care of you at the parsonage this morning. Over."

He'd returned to Tyler from training to help her pack up at her new stepfather's house this morning. Tami still couldn't quite get used to the fact that her mother had married the pastor.

"Tami, it's been two weeks. Once in two weeks is not sufficient. Over."

"Love will find a way. Just not necessarily as soon as you unpack me. Over."

"I'm going to unpack you a'ight. Over."

Tami laughed. "Stop it. I have to concentrate on driving now. And I'm about to crank up this George Strait song. Over."

"Is it 'Baby Blue'?" Eric asked. It had been a number one hit in April this year. "That song always makes me think of you. _You bring colors to my life that my eyes have never touched._ Over."

"You really want to get laid tonight, don't you? I'll tell you what. I'll _think_ about it. But I'm jamming right now. Over and out."

She tossed the walkie on the passenger's seat and cranked up the radio.

 **[*]**

When they got to Tami's new apartment, Eric walked her up the stairs to meet her roommate. The entrances were all on an external balcony, like a motel.

"Third story," Eric said. "That's going to be hot. And it's going to be a royal pain for the two of us to get the furniture up here. I might have to call my roommate to help. Let Stumpy practice his feats of strength."

Tami knocked on the door of her new abode. A twenty-something girl with short, black hair and a nose stud answered. She had on a white, spaghetti strap shirt that emphasized her pert breasts and tattoos ran up and down her bare arms.

"Gretchen?" Tami asked. They'd talked briefly on the phone, only as long as it took to schedule Tami's move-in. The girl's voice had been soft and sophisticated, like something from a cosmetics commercial. Tami had not anticipated the rather sullen looking creature she now found before her. She put on her most charming smile. "Hi! I'm you're new roommate, Tami."

Gretchen looked Eric up and down, more judgmentally than appreciatively, but Tami thought her eyes did linger on his biceps. "Is this your boyfriend?"

"Yes," Eric said hesitantly, "I'm Eric Taylor. Tami's boyfriend." He extended his hand.

Gretchen looked at his hand but turned around instead, saying, "Well he better not half move in here. Come in and I'll show you around and tell you the rules."

They followed her inside, Eric shutting the door behind himself.

Gretchen swirled around. "This is the kitchen table," she said, pointing to the kitchen bar, which had two stools resting in front of it. "And over there," she pointed beyond the bar, "is the kitchen. Stovetop, oven – oven doesn't work right now - it keeps turning itself off – told the landlord three days ago – still hasn't come to fix it – fridge, freezer, microwave. You want me not to eat something in the fridge, you label it. Otherwise, it's fair game. No dishwasher." She pointed to a plastic contraption next to the sink. "Drying rack. Use it." She pointed to a telephone mounted to the wall. "You pay half the monthly bill, except for long distance. Long distance we go over every month and you pay for the calls you make and I pay for the calls I make."

Now Gretchen stretched out her other arm in the other direction. "Living room. No cable unless you want to pay for it. I'm not paying a dime for cable. We get five channels with rabbit ears. That's my TV. You can watch it anytime I'm not watching it. You can watch it WHEN I'm watching it, but then you watch what I watch. That's my couch and my coffee table. You can use them, but don't spill anything on them. This way."

Gretchen began walking down the hallway. Tami looked at Eric with a raised eyebrow, and he winced on her behalf.

Gretchen stopped in the middle of the hallway and touched the thermostat. "We keep it set at 82. That may feel hot at first, but you'll get used to it. Air conditioning is fucking expensive, and I don't have much money. I'm guessing you don't either if you're living here. We split utilities straight down the middle, so keep the lights off unless you need them." She opened a door to her left. "Your room. It's smaller than mine, but I was here first. Also, you're paying $15 less a month."

Tami looked into the room. She'd seen the floor plans, but it looked even smaller than she imagined.

"We can put your futon flush against the left wall," Eric suggested, "your dresser on the right. That'll give you a couple of feet along one side of the bed."

"And my desk?" Tami asked.

"We can kitty corner it at the end there. I think it will work."

"I won't be able to open the closet without hitting it."

"You can open the left door," he said. "Just use that door."

"I wish my futon were a single," Tami muttered.

"You have a double?" Gretchen asked. "Dumb move in a place like this, but I suppose you want room to fuck your boyfriend."

Eric's eyes widened and he coughed.

"About that," Gretchen continued. "No overnight guests more than one night a week. And keep the noise down when you're fucking. I have to live here too."

She continued walking down the hall. She pointed to a closed door. "That's my room. You don't go in there."

Then she put a hand into an open room at the right and flicked on the switch. "Bathroom. This is it. You have to jiggle the handle every time you flush. Maybe your boyfriend can fix it. Can he fix things? Damn landlord says it can't be fixed without replacing something or another he doesn't want to replace yet."

"I..uh…I'll take a look at it," Eric said.

"The shower gets really hot really fast, so beware," Gretchen said. "Also, no fucking in the shower. Your boyfriend can use it if he's staying over, but no jerking off in it. I've got to use that shower."

Eric looked down at the light hall carpet, which was stained and frayed along the edges.

"Rent's due the 10th, to me," Gretchen said.

"I thought it was due the 15th," Tami said.

"To the landlord. But you give me your share the 10th, and then I pay him on the 15th. That way I know you're good for it. Lease is in my name. I lose the deposit if you screw up anything." Gretchen flicked off the light, stepped away from the bathroom, and looked Tami over. "You have really nice tits," she said, and walked back down the hall.

Tami turned deliberately to Eric. "So glad you insisted I get a _girl person_ for my roommate."

"What the hell is wrong with her?" Eric asked. "She wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?"

Tami shrugged.

"You think she's a lesbian?" he asked.

"Maybe she's just a self-appointed judge of the quality of tits." Tami began walking down the hall.

From behind her, Eric muttered, "Well, she's not _wrong_."

When they were back between the living room/kitchen area, Tami said, "Well, I'm going to start bringing in my stuff."

"I'm headed to work." Gretchen grabbed her purse from off of the kitchen bar. She fished out a key and handed it to Tami. "Don't forget to lock it every time you leave."

"I won't. Where do you work? I'm looking for a job myself."

"Bazookas."

When Gretchen was gone, Eric muttered, "I'm so sorry you have to live with that."

"What's Bazookas?"

"Topless bar on 12th."

Tami shot him an accusing look. "Did you go there while you were down for summer training?"

"No. Some of the guys did. They talked about it."

"I'd prefer you not go with them."

"Yeah. I already made that assumption, Tami. All on my own."

She smiled and kissed him. "Well, if you get that futon up here and set up for me…maybe you can get some topless service."

He wiggled his eye brows. Eric got Tami's desk chair and all of her boxes upstairs, except for the few she carted. Together, they muttered their way up three flights of stairs with the mattress, but then he broke down and called Stumpy from the kitchen phone to come over and help with the bed frame for the futon and Tami's desk.

In the meantime, Eric and Tami ran to the grocery store to get some assorted groceries. Tami also bought a roll of masking tape and a sharpie so she could label it all. "I don't want her eating and drinking all my stuff," she said.

When Stumpy arrived, Tami noted that he was a good three or four inches taller than Eric, who Tami already thought was pretty tall. He had chest hair spilling out of the top of his t-shirt. He was slightly tan, with dark, almost black eyes. His New York accent was grating to Tami's ears when he spoke. "Holy fucking shit, 32! You're right. Your girlfriend _is_ hot! I thought you were just bragging, but goddamn!"

"Stumpy," Eric said, "don't use that language around my girl, a'ight? Show some respect."

"Is that a southern thing?"

"Respect?" Eric asked.

Stumpy laughed. "I meant not swearing much in front of girls. Sounds sexist to me." He held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Tami. I'm Giovani."

"Giovani?" Eric asked. "I never knew that."

Tami smiled lightly and shook his hand.

"But you can call me Stumpy. Everyone else does." He clapped his hands together. "Now how may I service you guys?"

"Don't call my girl a guy either," Eric said.

"You guys is gender neutral, Taylor."

" _Y'all_ is gender neutral," Eric insisted.

When Stumpy and Eric had Tami's room set up, Stumpy slumped in the arm chair with a beer Eric offered him, and Tami curled onto the couch next to Eric with a wine cooler.

"So that fake I.D. I got you worked for you?" Stumpy asked.

"Yeah," Eric said. "Still not sure I should keep using it. I really don't want to get caught and get kicked off the team for doing something stupid like that."

"Ah...they'd make that go away. Just don't get caught driving drunk like Leo did. At least not more than _once_." He swigged his beer.

"Stumpy, man, you've got to meet Tami's roommate." Eric told her about Gretchen.

Stumpy laughed. "Ah, yeah, I know Gretchen, actually. She works over at Bazookas."

Tami rolled her eyes.

"Your girlfriend disapproves. Hey, it's an honest living." Stumpy took another swig of beer. "Or were you judging me for going?"

"I didn't say anything," Tami said.

"You said volumes, sweetheart."

"Don't call me sweetheart."

Stumpy laughed. "I bet she's feisty in bed."

"Stumpy, man, seriously," Eric said, "I don't want to have to get in a fight. I just moved a bunch of stuff. I'm _tired_."

"My apologies, Tami," Stumpy said. "That was rude of me." He scratched his sweaty forehead. "I actually asked Gretchen out last time I was there, but she says she doesn't ever date customers. Does she go to Waco Community, Tami, do you know?"

"Yeah," Tami said. She told Stumpy what little Gretchen had told her on the phone. "She's in her second year there. She's 22, and she wants to switch careers. I guess the topless waitressing business isn't all it's cracked up to be." Tami shot Stumpy something of a dirty look when she said it. Was this guy really Eric's closest friend at Baylor? Tami missed Joey by comparison. She'd have to call Sarah to see how the two of them had settled in at UT, but only after she had secured a job and could _afford_ the call.

"Well I suppose you guys want to get on with your evening together," Stumpy said. "You coming back to the room tonight, Taylor?"

Eric looked at Tami. Tami smiled. "Well, I guess that depends. Do you want to use up one of your one nights a week? Because apparently you only get one."

Eric smirked at her and then turned to Stumpy. "Nah. Not tonight, man," Eric told him.

Stumpy stood, and Eric rose. "Before you go, want to see if you can fix a toilet?"

"Do I ever!" Stumpy said sarcastically, but he had the toilet fixed in under ten minutes.

As Eric saw him out, he said, "Thanks for the help."

"No problemo."

"Sorry you have to live with that," Tami told Eric when he was gone.

"Stumpy? Nah. He's a'ight. I like him."

"Why?" How could Eric's taste in friends have deteriorated so much since high school?

"He's rough around the edges, but I can rely on him. He's a guy I can trust to have my back."

"On the field you mean?" Tami asked.

"Or off. Hey, he helped you move and he fixed your toilet. Give him some credit."

"Fine. I need a shower. Want to join me? No funny business, though," she told him, smiling. "Gretchen has to use this shower."

"I'll be good," he promised, but he spent a long time washing her chest and bottom.

When they got to her bedroom, she laughed at the way his erection tented the towel wrapped around his waist. "You have condoms, I assume?" .

He fished in the jeans he'd left hanging over her desk chair.

"I haven't unpacked the KY," she said. "I don't know where it is."

He smiled, tossed the foil package on the futon, picked her up, and lay her down. "Then I guess I'm going to have to find another way to make you good and wet first."

He seized the towel where she'd wrapped it around her cleavage and unraveled it, watching the revelation intently. He kissed the curve of her neck and then worked his way slowly down.

Tami let her legs fall open, buried her fingers in his hair, and pushed him a little faster to the desired spot.


	3. 8-22 to 8-26: Settling In

**[Monday, August 22, 1988]**

Tami had a little trouble finding her classes the first day of school. She was six minutes late to her English Composition class (a core requirement) and four minutes late to her Pre-Calculus class. (She had to take that and Calculus as a prerequisite for Statistics, which she would have to take eventually if she wanted to concentrate in Psychology. It was going to be her hardest class this year. She hadn't realize she was going to need so much math to study Psychology. She was grateful for Eric's past tutoring, but he couldn't help her now. He'd never gone beyond Algebra II himself.) She was three minutes late to her Introduction to Sociology class, and two minutes late to her Cultural Anthropology class, but finally on-time to her Introduction to Psychology class. She'd scheduled all of her classes for Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to minimize the commute. With breaks between classes, that meant she was on campus from 8 AM to 6 PM.

That evening, she was sitting on the bar stool and filling out an Applebee's application she'd picked up when Gretchen walked in. Tami's roommate slapped her purse down on the kitchen bar, jerked open the refrigerator, took out a Diet Coke, and began guzzling it like a sailor chugging a beer. Gretchen set down the can with a slam and an "Ahhhh!" and glanced at Tami's application. "You should apply at Bazookas. You'll get twice the tips you do at Applebee's. Easily."

"I'm not really comfortable working at a place like that," Tami said, writing down her address in the application field. She'd already stopped by Chili's and filled out an application and interviewed there earlier this evening, but she wanted a backup plan.

"Oh, I see. Too good for that, huh?"

Tami looked up from the application. "That's not what I said."

"Look, it's not as if I have to dance. Or take anything off that isn't already off. Or sit in their laps. Or let them touch me. Guys state at your tits all the time anyway, don't they?"

"Not with my shirt off."

"But they undress you with their eyes, I'm sure. It's demeaning either way. Might as well get paid for it. This is putting me through college. Then I never have to do it again."

"I'll be glad never to waitress again, too." Tami resumed filling out her application. In an attempt to make conversation, she said, "My boyfriend's roommate Stumpy said he asked you out, but you told him you don't date customers."

"I don't date period. Guys suck."

"Not all of them," Tami said with a smile.

"Oh, sure, you're boyfriend's different. Because you're too good for anything less, right?"

Did Tami come off as snobbish? She didn't think she did. She supposed it was obvious what she thought of Gretchen's job, however.

"He's a football player isn't he?' Gretchen asked.

"Yes," Tami said, and then, a little proudly, "He's going to be the second string quarterback for the Baylor Bears this season."

"Well, honey, your fantasy bubble's going to burst sooner or later. Because football players are the worst. They all cheat on their girlfriends, and they all have each other's backs."

Tami thought of what Eric had said, about Stumpy having his back.

"They all lie for each other," Gretchen continued. "And they all come into Bazookas like they own the place, flashing money around, because they get those plush scholarships that cover housing and food."

"But not Eric," she said. "You've never seen Eric at Bazookas."

Gretchen laughed scornfully. "Why, did he tell you he would never set foot in place like that?"

Tami felt suddenly sick. "Have you seen him there?"

"No," Gretchen admitted, much to Tami's relief. "I've never noticed him there. But give it time." Gretchen tossed her empty Diet Coke can in the trash. "If it's not Bazookas, it'll be some girl's dorm room."

"Why are you so cynical?" Tami asked as Gretchen walked behind the bar and plopped down on the living room couch.

"Life experience," Gretchen told her. "I'm way older than you."

Gretchen was at most four years older than her. Tami swiveled on her bar stool to face her. "Well, the first guy I ever slept with dumped me the next day. And my first steady boyfriend cheated on me, but that hasn't made me not believe in Eric." Those things had, however, made her test Eric a little bit, hold out longer than she otherwise might have, let him prove himself before she gave him either her heart or her body. "He's different."

"They're all different until they're not," Gretchen said, picking up a music magazine she'd left on the coffee table. The cover had a band Tami had never heard of, the guitarist covered with tattoos and a ring dangling from his nose as if he were a cow.

"I wish you wouldn't pre-judge my boyfriend."

"Why not?" Gretchen asked. "Haven't you already drawn a hundred conclusions about me?"

Tami turned on her stool and resumed filling out her application.

"I wish the landlord would come and fix that oven," Gretchen muttered.

"You should call Stumpy and ask him to do it," Tami said. "He fixed the toilet after all."

"He did? He can fix things? Hmmmm…." Tami heard Gretchen clomp her feet up on the coffee table, black high-heeled boots and all. "Maybe I will date him. At least until I can afford a handy man."

 **[Tuesday, August 23, 1988]**

"That's a long shift," Sarah told Tami. "That's 12 hours!"

Tami was leaned against the kitchen counter, talking on the kitchen phone. She'd splurged on the long distance call after walking into Applebee's this afternoon to submit her application and being offered a job on the spot. She would work Tuesday and Thursday, the two days she had no classes, from 10 AM to 10 PM. "I know, but I get paid for a full twenty-four hours a week, while I still get forty minutes for lunch and forty minutes for dinner. And then I don't have to work on weekends. I can go to Eric's games, party, study, whatever."

"You're going to get blisters on your feet."

"I'll sit during downtimes. You know, there's going to be times without a lot of people there. That mid-day time. I might even be able to study."

"Tuesdays and Thursdays aren't the best days for tips," Sarah warned her.

"I know. But they're paying me $6 an hour based on my past experience."

"Wow. That's more than minimum wage." Restaurants usually paid less than minimum wage, expecting you to make up the difference with tips.

"Well, they want someone who shows up on time and sober. That job skill is in high demand around here, apparently."

Sarah laughed.

"So, how are you and Joey getting on as roommates?"

"You were right. He's holding out hope for more. And it's a bit awkward. I need to get a boyfriend so we can close that door."

"Well don't rush into it. If you're just going to pick some random guy, it might as well be Joey."

"Not if I pick some really hot, muscular random guy who's fantastic in bed."

"You're not going after casual sex, are you, Sarah? Not you."

"I don't know, Tami. I'm 18. And I'm a virgin. Maybe I should just get laid and get it over with."

"Don't talk like that, Sarah. Don't make the same mistake I made with Paul."

"Was it that bad?"

"It's better with someone you love. Or more to the point, someone who loves you. Trust me. It just is."

"Maybe it's just better with _Eric_."

Tami laughed. "Well, that too…"

 **[Wednesday, August 24]**

Eric had two glasses of milk on his tray. They were eating at one of Baylor's dining halls, because he had twenty guest meals on the meal pass his scholarship covered. Tami had been impressed by the selection. This was nothing like high school. She was eating a salad at the moment.

"Milk them bones so you can grow," Stumpy told him, and then snickered. He stood and grabbed his mostly empty tray. "I'll see you guys later. I've got to go back to the room and call my girlfriend in New York. Fucking expensive, those long distance calls."

Tami watched him go and shook her head. "He has a girlfriend back home? And he asked Gretchen out?"

Eric didn't say anything. He started in on his second glass of milk.

"Isn't that awful?" she asked him.

He put down his milk and cut into his meatloaf. "Maybe his New York girlfriend knows. Maybe she's okay with it."

"How can she possibly be okay with it?" Tami asked, her blue eyes flashing.

"I don't know. I'm not her. Why are you mad at me?"

"Because you don't seem upset about it. What do you say to him when you see him trying to pick up girls?"

"I don't say anything. It's none of my business."

Tami shook her head and slumped back into the chair, her arms crossed over herself. "I just…if you hang out with guys all the time who think it's okay to cheat – are _you_ going to start thinking it's okay?"

He put down his fork and stared at her in disbelief. "Tami, did I ever cheat on Laura? Have I ever cheated on you? And I was hanging out with guys like this in high school."

"Not really. No. You were mostly hanging out with Joey."

"Hey," he said softly. He reached across the table and held out his hand. She put her hand in his. "I'd be a fool to cheat on you, Tami. Some girls, they put up with that. You're not the kind of girl who puts up with that. Don't think I don't know that. And no one else could hold a candle to you anyway." He squeezed her hand.

"When are you taking me to a party? I've never been to a _college_ party."

"Well, first real game isn't until next Saturday, but there's a party _this_ Saturday. At the frat house of one of the guys on the team. Want to come with me?"

She smiled, plucked a carrot off her salad, and bit down on it. "Of course I do. And you'll need a designated driver, I'm sure."

 **[Thursday, August 25]**

Tami invited Gretchen to join them at the party on Saturday, in an attempt to extend some good will. She didn't actually want Gretchen to go, and she knew she would say no because she had to work, but Tami wanted to _look_ like she was being friendly.

"No," Gretchen told her as she counted her tips from the night and slid the cash in an envelope.

Gretchen was right. That was a lot of cash. Tami felt a hint of envy. The tips she'd brought home tonight from Applebee's were a third that amount.

They were sitting on the couch. Tami had been relaxing watching the Late Show on Fox when Gretchen walked in, slumped down next to her, and started counting her cash. "I have to work Saturday night," Gretchen said. "And besides, I'm straight edge. There's nothing for me at those frat parties."

"Straight what?"

"Straight edge. No drinking. No drugs. No smoking. No caffeine. No promiscuous sex."

But working at a topless bar was okay? "Is that a religious thing?" Tami asked.

Gretchen gave her a peculiar look. "No. Unless music is a religion."

Gretchen frequently played loud, angry-sounding music that involved a lot of screaming. Tami had finally mustered up the courage to ask her to turn it down last night. Gretchen had, without comment, but with a look of disdain.

 **[Friday, August 26]**

Eric met Tami for lunch on the Waco Community campus between her first two classes. They picnicked in the shade of a tree. He'd brought fruit and sandwiches he'd smuggled out of his own dining hall and placed in a cooler. They'd resolved to only eat out once a week. He wasn't working during football season, and she would be scraping by on her part-time income.

"Gretchen said she might date Stumpy just because he can repair stuff," Tami said.

"It's an in-demand skill for a boyfriend, I hear," Eric said. "It's a shame I suck at it. A son of a handy man really shouldn't."

"Didn't you ever work with him?"

"Sure. I mostly held the ladder and fetched things. I can do basic stuff, but…I never really caught on. For my dad, it's like instinct. He can fix just about anything. Stumpy's like that too."

"I really don't get you hanging out with that guy so much."

"He's my roommate," Eric said, biting into an apple, "he's on the team, and he's helpful. He'll help anyone out, any time. What's not to like?"

"You _know_ what I don't like. Two-timing his girlfriend. Hanging out at Bazookas."

"Most of the guys hang out at Bazookas. Their girlfriends don't mind."

"Well _I_ mind," she said angrily.

"I know! I don't go, a'ight?"

"I'm sorry," she said, and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm a little on edge. Gretchen said some things that wound me up the other day."

He slid an arm around her waist and kissed her head. "That girl's a seething cauldron ready to boil over at any minute. Don't listen to her."

Tami chuckled. "She's not a bad roommate, though. She's neat, clean, never has anyone over, and does her half of the chores on time. The music I could do without, but once I asked her to turn it down, she did, and she's kept it at a reasonable level." She turned and kissed him. "What's your schedule today?"

"I had practice in the early morning." They had to practice early. The weather was topping 100 these days. It was 99 now, but the tree's shade made it somewhat more bearable. "Then I had English Comp. That's a requirement, but it's also a gut. They told me if I show up, I've got a B."

"Must be nice to be a football player."

"Then I had Weight Lifting. That's for my P.E. major. Easy for me."

She smiled and squeezed his arm. "I like that class."

"After I leave you here, I've got Biology 101. I need at least six math or science hours for my core requirements. It's non-lab though. And I was told if I show up, I'll get a C+. With a little effort, I'll get a B."

Tami shook her head. "No history this semester?" He'd been planning to double major in P.E. and history, after all.

"I was told not to take any history classes during football season. So I've got Nutrition on Tuesday and Thursday and also Conditioning for Football. Both count toward my P.E. major. I was told if I show up for Nutrition - "

"- You'll get a B."

He smiled and nodded.

Tami shook her head.

"Hey, we train twenty hours a week with the coaches. Then it's silently understood we'll be spending twenty hours on our own, running routes, watching game tape, studying the playbook. Then there's the games and travel for the away games."

"Joey was right. They should just treat it like a job and pay you. Instead of pretending you're getting an education."

"I fully intend to get an education, too, Tami. I know I might need something to fall back on. But I'll pack my _real_ classes in the spring and summer."

Eric had to take at least six hours in the summer to maintain his scholarship, and there was summer training. Tami would work through the summer, at least full-time. They would not be returning to Tyler, like so many of their high school classmates who had gone to college. The apron strings had been cut fast. Tami missed her sister already, and even her mother a little bit.

She took Eric's half eaten apple from his hand and bit into it.

"Ewww."

"Like we don't swap plenty of fluids anyway?"

He smiled and kissed her cheek. "Speaking of which…." he whispered, "It's been awhile."

She patted his cheek. "Well, if you can manage to get it up after all your drinking at the party tomorrow night, I promise you we'll fool around."

"Oh, Tami, no amount of alcohol could keep me down around you." He kissed her, and she pushed him playfully away, telling him she was about to be late for class.


	4. 8-27 to 8-28: Drunk Tami

**[Saturday, August 27, 1988]**

"Are you going to pledge this fraternity?" Tami asked Eric as they walked toward the Zeta Beta Tau house.

"Nah. Did you know you have to pay money to be in a fraternity?"

Tami laughed. "I did know that. Yes."

"And you have to do a bunch of stupid stuff during pledge week. Sounds like a lot of hassle to me. And it's not like I can't just go to any party I want. Why? You joining a sorority?"

"Waco Community College doesn't exactly have sororities, sugar."

 **[*]**

Tami _assumed_ the punch was spiked, but she didn't expect it to be quite as strong as it was. She had just scooped her third glass when she realized she was already quite buzzed.

"Hey, beautiful," said an older-looking, blond-haired boy, maybe a senior, as he came up beside her. "Rad party, huh?"

"Uh…" Tami looked around for Eric. He had wandered off a bit and was talking to Stumpy and a couple of other football players, laughing and moving his hands to illustrate whatever story he was telling. He wasn't drunk – she'd only seen him drink two cups of beer - but he was animated. "Yeah. Fun." Her head was buzzing. She looked down in the cup. "What's in this?" she asked. It had been so sweet. Surely it couldn't contain _much_ alcohol?

The boy laughed. "Aww….gorgeous, lots and lots of vodka." He smiled and leaned in. "What sorority are you in?"

"I'm not…" she looked around him, to Eric, who was absorbed in his conversation.

The boy put one hand flat against the wall near her head. "You uh…you look like you could use a good time, huh?"

"No," she said. "I have a good time with my… …uh…."

The boy put his other hand flat against the wall on the other side of her, so that she was pinned. He leaned in, as if he was going to kiss her. She shook her head, and was thinking of pushing him away, when she heard Eric's voice: "Hey! Andrews! That's my girl!"

The college boy immediately pulled away and turned. "Aw, man, sorry, I didn't know. I really didn't know."

Eric glared at him, walked forward, and took Tami's hand. She leaned against him. "Are you buzzed?" he whispered.

"I don't know," she said, and giggled. She suddenly thought it was very funny she didn't know.

"Guess I better stop drinking," Eric said. "I thought you were going to be the designated driver tonight."

"Sorry."

The boy Eric had called Andrews had disappeared and was talking to another girl. Eric glanced across the room at him. "Asshole," he muttered. "I bet he was going to try to get you upstairs." He shook his head. "My dad told me – don't ever have sex with a girl who's drunk unless you've _already_ had sex with her when she was sober and you _know_ she likes having sex with you."

Tami smiled. She didn't know why she had let Gretchen make her doubt him. Eric was a good guy, raised by a man who had taught him to be a gentleman. "Your dad gave you a lot of sex advice."

"Not really," Eric said. "More like don't-be-an-asshole advice."

She giggled and kissed his ear. "Well," she whispered, "you've already had sex with me sober, and you _know_ I like it."

He grinned, bent down, and whispered in her ear, "Is that permission for later?"

She nodded. "I guess since you're driving anyway, I might as well finish this." She drained that third cup of punch.

"Dance with me," he said when she was done drinking, and drew her out onto the makeshift floor, where couples were engaged in various states of slow and fast dance and near simulated sex, none of which seemed to have anything to do with the music that was playing.

Tami thought she was dancing sensationally well. There were certainly a lot of people looking at her. She put her arms up into the air, turned her back against Eric, and danced, slithering down his body.

"Go, Taylor!" someone shouted.

When she came back up, she shouted, "I need another drink!"

Three different young men ran to her with one. She took a plastic cup in each hand and resumed dancing, to the tune of much clapping and whistling. Eric had stopped dancing and was just watching her. She sipped in between movements. She wasn't sure what this was, but it wasn't as sweet as the punch, and it smelled stronger than beer. It burned a little going down.

Tami wasn't sure how or when or if she'd finished those two drinks, but after a few songs, she discovered both cups were empty. She supposed it didn't matter. The boys would bring her a new one. "Drink!" she commanded.

Eric slid a supportive arm around her waist. "Let's get you home," he said.

"Why?" she asked. "I'm having fun dancing!"

"You can dance for me back at your place."

 **[Sunday, August 28]**

Tami awoke with a pounding headache. Eric was propped up on one elbow, looking down at her. They were on her futon in her apartment bedroom. She was naked. He was naked.

"Did we have sex?" she asked.

"Hell yeah."

She vaguely remembered him ripping open her blouse, or was that a dream? "Am I going to have to sew on some buttons?"

"No," he said, laughing. "They just pulled loose through the holes. You didn't break them off."

" _I_ didn't break them off?"

"When you tore open your shirt. The buttons just popped through."

She also vaguely remembered bending over her desk in the corner of the room and him slapping her bottom and saying, _Spread formation_. Had he actually said that, or was that a dream? She thought she recalled shouting, _Go deep!_ , but she wasn't sure if she actually had.

"Was there a lot of football terminology in use last night?" she asked.

He laughed. "Do you remember anything you said to me?"

"Not much. Why? What did I say?"

"Lots of things. It would embarrass you if I quoted them all."

She put a hand on her forehead and groaned. "I am so very, very glad I did not get that drunk around some guy I hardly knew." If she had woken up this morning and found herself in some near-stranger's bed…

He kissed her cheek. "Trust me, you had a _really_ good time last night."

She chuckled. "Did I? I wish I could remember it all then." She lay her head on his chest and groaned. "It hurts. My head."

"I'll bring you some water, and make you some coffee, and if Gretchen doesn't chew me out for pilfering her eggs, some pancakes too." He kissed the top of her head.

"What if you hadn't been there?" she said.

"Then you would have been smart enough not to get that drunk. You only kept going because you knew I was there to look out for you."

"This is how so many girls end up having and regretting meaningless sex."

"You don't think some girls drink to lower their inhibitions because they _want_ meaningless sex, but they have trouble admitting that sober?"

"I don't know," she admitted. People did a lot of stupid things. She'd done a stupid thing in her high school days, losing her virginity to Paul at that drama party. Had she drunk for courage that night to do what her body yearned to do? Had she drunk to silence that still small voice of reason that would have told her bluntly, brutally that she was nothing to Paul? "I just know _**I**_ don't want meaningless sex."

"Neither do I," Eric said. "And last night wasn't meaningless." He kissed her lips. "It was _profound_ , baby."

She giggled. "Be a gentleman and go fix me breakfast."

Tami showered, dressed, and joined him at the kitchen bar. It was already 10:50 AM, and Gretchen was nowhere to be found. "Is she sleeping off a hangover?" Eric asked.

"She doesn't drink. Ever. I think she's gone. She's rarely home."

"Doesn't drink? That's weird."

Tami put a hand on the back of his neck and kissed his shoulder. "Sorry I got so drunk last night."

He laughed. "I'm not."

She kissed his cheek. "I promise I'll be the designated driver next weekend, after your big first game."

"If I play," he muttered. "You know I'm not the star here, right? I'm only second string. Coach will only play me if we're ahead by the half."

"You're playing the Rebels. Don't they suck this year?"

Eric nodded. "Yeah. I have a real chance of some time. I'm nervous about that too. These guys…it's not like high school."

She kissed his ear. "You'll do great, Eric. I believe in you."

He smiled at her. "You know, it's really nice to have my own personal cheerleading squad."

Tami thought of her old friend Mrs. Hernandez, whom she used to visit in the nursing home, and who had died this past spring. "Every man wants a harem, dearie," Mrs. Hernandez had told her once. "Be his."

Eric left at noon so that Tami could study without distraction. She was sitting on the living room floor at 5 PM, her math book open on the coffee table, when Gretchen walked in, Stumpy behind her with a tool box in his hand.

"Hey, Tami," he said. "I'm here to fix your oven because Gretchen says you have a shit landlord." He smiled at her. "Great dancing last night by the way. You could be a professional."

Tami glared at him, and he went into the open kitchen. Gretchen disappeared back into her bedroom. There was a lot of muttering and swearing and clanging coming from the kitchen for the next twenty minutes. Then Stumpy announced, "It works!"

Gretchen came down the hallway and leaned on the kitchen bar. Stumpy demonstrated the oven for her. Tami could see all this from where she sat in the living room. The apartment was that small.

"You're good," Gretchen said.

"So, dinner?" Stumpy asked. "You promised if I got it working…"

"Fine, but don't expect more than a good night kiss after. And you're paying."

"You know he has a girlfriend in New York," Tami said casually, turning a page of her math book. "If that bothers you at all."

"I didn't know," Gretchen said, "but I'm hardly surprised." She levelled her eyes at Stumpy. "And if she hasn't figured out you're cheating, she's a fool."

"I'm not cheating," Stumpy insisted. "She's dating other guys too. We're not going steady."

"Uh-huh," Gretchen said. "Let me go get my purse."


	5. 8-31 to 9-3: Drunk Eric

**A/N** : _Thanks for the comments. Please keep reviewing!_

 **[Wednesday, August 31]**

"Why did you tell Gretchen that Stumpy had a girlfriend?" Eric pulled his second milk glass to himself. They were at the Baylor dining halls again, and Tami was using the second of Eric's twenty guest passes.

"It's her right to know before she gets involved with him," Tami replied.

"Don't you think he should have been the one to tell her that?"

Tami picked up her ice tea glass. "Didn't look like he was planning to."

"I think they agreed to see other people in college, him and that girl in you New York."

"That's what _he_ says."

"I overhear their conversations on the phone sometimes, Tami. He asks her about other guys she's seeing."

"So, what, he just has sex with her when he's home for the holidays?"

"I think that's pretty much how that goes."

Tami shook her head. "Well if he's trying to get in Gretchen's pants – which he clearly is – then Gretchen has the right to know he's having sex with someone else."

"Look, Stumpy's working against enough as is with her. She thinks guys who go to Bazookas are pathetic."

"Well, Eric, paying women to show you their tits is kind of pathetic behavior, don't you think?"

"She's taking their money! She's doing that for a living and then judges him for it?" He drank down half of his second glass of milk. "Listen. Stumpy and I had a talk after his little date with Gretchen."

"Did he tell you that he scored?" Tami asked. "Because if he did, I can guarantee you he's lying." Gretchen had said they kissed and that Stumpy was not as bad a kisser as she had anticipated. "She's only dating him at all so he'll fix stuff for her."

"Oh. And she's the pure one in this scenario?"

"I never said _anyone_ was pure in this scenario."

"Listen, Tami, Gretchen's the reason Stumpy keeps going back to Bazookas."

"So? He likes to see her topless. What's your point?"

"No. He likes _her_. He likes her attitude. Why, I don't for the life of me know, but that's what he told me the other night. He likes her attitude. Says she's real and raw, whatever the hell that means. All I'm saying is…leave them alone. Let them….let what happens there happen. It's not your business."

"Maybe it's not your business to tell me what's my business," Tami said, casting him a defiant look.

He smiled tightly. "Tami, I have to fit in on this team. If my girlfriend is going around telling girls that guys have girlfriends, I'm going to be a pariah. Do you understand that?"

Tami pushed her tray to the side. "I hate this football loyalty thing. My football brothers, right or wrong. You're like bad cops covering for each other. You've got your own thin blue line."

"Baylor's color is green, babe."

She leaned forward. "I. Don't. Like. It."

He leaned forward. "You. Don't. Have. To. But football is part of who I am, and there are certain things that will interfere with my ability to excel on this team. I'd appreciate it if you would appreciate that."

She sighed and sat back. "Fine. I'll keep my mouth shut." She slid her ice tea closer. "Although sometimes you seem to _like_ it when I open my mouth."

He smiled.

 **[Saturday, September 3]**

"Eric got us some excellent seats," Mr. Taylor said as he eased down next to Tami in Baylor's stadium. "How is college going for you?"

"My math class is really hard. My English class is pretty easy. Easier than high school, actually. Sociology and Cultural Anthropology are okay, but I really like Psychology."

"I thought community colleges were like trade schools. You're not learning a trade?"

"Well….I'm learning to be a psychologist."

"Psychology? Huh." He shook his head. "There's a pill for everything these days, I suppose."

"That would be psychiatry. Psychology is more about…well…I'd like to be a counselor one day. Get people to talk."

Mr. Taylor chuckled. Tami didn't think he had much respect for her chosen profession. "I used to tend bar," he said, "when I was 18 and 19. Before I had Eric, while I was still in the amateur league. I got people to talk without even trying. But I guess I didn't know the proper direction to give them. That's what you'll be doing, huh? Giving guidance?"

She couldn't quite tell if he was making fun of her or not. It did seem silly, the thought of an eighteen year old (she was about to turn nineteen later this fall) giving guidance, but she wouldn't always be so young. "That's the goal," she said.

"I hope Eric gets some playtime today," Mr. Taylor said. "All he needs is a chance to prove himself."

There was movement on the field. The band geared up. They stopped talking.

Baylor had a solid lead against the UNLV Rebels by the end of the second quarter, so Eric was trotted out onto the field after halftime. Tami whooped and hollered for him, while Mr. Taylor simply watched quietly.

Eric threw two touchdown passes _and_ made a rushing touchdown by the end of the game. Baylor massacred UNLV 27 to 3.

"The coach is going to notice him now," Mr. Taylor said.

After the game, Eric talked to his father, who had to head back to Tyler that night, and then made plans to meet Tami later at the after party. After sitting in the hot sun, she wanted to go home and shower before partying. Eric would get a ride there from Stumpy, and Tami would take him home later. It was his turn to drink.

 **[*]**

When Tami parked her car along frat row, she figured Eric was at least an hour ahead of her to the party. It had taken her longer to get out of the stadium than she'd planned, and then her hair took forever to blow dry after she showered.

As she made her way down the sidewalk toward the house, she received a whistle from a passing frat boy. As she walked up the lawn, another blocked her way.

"Hey, baby," he said, swaying on his feet. He pointed to his crotch. "Want some of this love juice?"

"Jesus H. Christ, Mikey," rose a familiar voice from behind Tami. "Has that ever worked for you?" Tami looked over her shoulder to see Stumpy.

"Once," Mikey said.

"This is Eric's girlfriend. Don't mess with her."

"Aw, sorry," Mikey said. "I didn't know."

Stumpy jerked his head toward the house. "I'll walk you up. Eric's inside. I just left my wallet in the car. Had to go back."

Tami was glad to have Stumpy's protective presence as they made their way into the house, but he disappeared once they were through the front door.

She had to scour the rowdy crowd for Eric. She found him because she heard his laugh. It was higher than usual, and trailed on a bit. She followed the sound and spied him by his hair, which had a slight cowlick going, thick and wild atop his head.

There were two girls on either side of him, in short, Baylor cheerleader skirts. One slid an arm around his waist, and the other draped an arm around his shoulders. Both were platinum blonde. She could see he was stumbling forward a little, toward the keg, while they were steadying him. One of the cheerleaders turned her head and stuck a tongue straight in his ear, and Tami froze, several feet back.

Why was he allowing her to do that? A massive wave of disappointment swelled up around her. Tami wasn't sure whether she was going to strangle him or the girl first.

"Whoa!" Eric said and stumbled back from the two girls. "Hold up…hold up…." He waved his hands a little wildly. "I havesh a girlfriend."

The wave of anger and disappointment broke suddenly without drowning Tami, but it still beat against her a bit.

"So?" the girl who had stuck her tongue in his ear said.

"Shho? Shho I havesh a girlfriend," he slurred. "Shhho I can't havesh your tongue in my ear."

"Why not?"

"Becashz. I havesh a girlfriend."

Tami rapidly closed the distance between them. Eric noticed her and pointed at her, his finger wavering. "There!" he exclaimed. "She arrives! Ishn't she bee-ute-ee-full?"

Both girls laughed. One said, "You're so funny, Aaron."

"His name is Eric," Tami declared as she strutted forward and put a possessive arm around his waist.

"Well I'm totally up for a threesome if your girlfriend is game," one of the cheerleaders said. "She can't be mad if she gets to participate, right?"

Eric looked at Tami with a poorly suppressed grin.

Tami shot him daggers with her eyes.

"Oh, I think she can be mad, ladiezzz," he said. "I haveshz to go. She doesn't like to share me. I'm shorry, ladiezzz. So shorry."

As Tami led him away, she heard one of the cheerleaders (she could hardly tell them apart) say, "Isn't it adorable the way he called us ladies? I so want to fuck him when his jealous gatekeeper isn't around."

"Is he first string or second string?" the other cheerleader asked.

When Tami had Eric away from the keg, he chuckled and kissed her, backing her up to the wall as he did so. "I'm sho glad you're here, babe." He started in on her neck with little nips. He pressed himself against her. He was partially erect. "I bet we can find an empty room."

She pushed him away. "You're drunk."

"Sho?"

"I always wondered what you'd be like drunk. Now I know. I don't like it. Flirting with girls. Pawing me without any attempt at - "

"- They _came_ onto _me_ , Tami. I shaid no. Maybe you didn't shee it, but I _shwear_ I did."

"I saw it. But now you just want to screw me while thinking of them."

"What? I want _you_. I didn't _do_ anything. I jusht won a game. You can't at leasht congratulate me?"

"How? By being a hole in your mattress? No thank you. Find your own way home tonight."

She pushed past him.

Tami stormed her way to the car, ignoring the cat calls of the drunken frat boys on the lawn. If they were this drunk already, she wondered how many of them would be in the hospital by morning. Maybe she wasn't cut out for college life. She had to work. Get straight As. She didn't have time for this bullshit. This was high school bullshit. She'd already done her share of partying with Mo her junior year. And she didn't like drunk Eric.

As she was driving away, however, she thought maybe she didn't much like sober Tami either. Eric _had_ done the right thing. Those girls had obviously been coming onto him. They put their arms around him, and not vice versa, and he'd rebuffed them and told them he had a girlfriend, even though he didn't know Tami was right there at the moment, and even though he was drunk. Eric had played well and won a game tonight. He'd just wanted to celebrate, and with _her_ , not them, and yet she'd left him standing there, drunk and alone.

Those girls were going to be all over him like sauce on ribs.

Tami made a sudden U-turn in the middle of the street. When she got back, Eric was stumbling along a ditch at the side of the street by the frat houses.

Stumpy was trailing along after him, shouting, "Taylor, hey, Taylor, get back to the party man, you're drunk, brother, you're gonna get run over. Come on now!"

He reached Eric about the same time Tami pulled to a stop, threw the car into park, and leaned over and opened the passenger's door. "I got him, Stumpy," she said.

"Okay. You take good care of my brother, you hear, y'all?" Stumpy was making fun of the Texas accent.

"You don't say y'all for one person, Stumpy," she said. From behind Stumpy she heard Eric retching and then vomiting into the grassy ditch. "How much did he drink? I was only an hour late."

"Ah." Stumpy leaned a hand on the hood and stooped down to look at her. "He got caught up in a drinking contest as soon as we got to the party. There were shots first, and then he was chugging from the keg when I left to go get my wallet from my car. He didn't want to say no and seem like a sissy, but I don't think he's much of a drinker."

Stumpy glanced back at Eric vomiting, "Get it all out, brother! All of it. You don't want to up chuck in your girlfriend's car!" He turned back to Tami. "Hey, listen. I saw you run off on him. Just so you know, Eric's a stand-up guy. He had girls coming onto him all summer training, and I never saw him go home with one. Not once. So whatever you think you saw at that party, you probably didn't." He shook his head. "Hell, Eric wouldn't even go with us to the titty bar. How is Gretchen by the way? She say anything to you about our date?"

"No," Tami lied.

He leaned down further and looked around her car. "This thing is a piece of shit, Tami."

"I know. I'm not Rockefeller."

"Well, I can perk it up for you, if you want. I know a thing or two about cars." Stumpy looked back at Eric. "You ready, brother?"

"No," Eric muttered. "She doesn't want me because of mattresses!"

"Mattresses, man? What the fuck are you talking about? Your girl's right here. She's gonna take good care of you. Get in before you do something you regret."

Eric stumbled over and slid into the passenger seat. Stumpy closed the door for him. Through the open window, Stumpy said, "Next time, Taylor, no drinking contests, okay? Oh, and, uh, I'm not going to be back at the room tonight, just so" he winked " _y'all_ know. I'm probably gonna comfort those poor cheerleaders Eric didn't want. Wouldn't want them to feel undesired."

"You're such a gentleman, Stumpy," Tami said. "Always thinking of others."

"Tami, I'm _joking_. I'll probably be too drunk to drive later, so I'm going to crash at the frat."

 **[*]**

In Eric's dorm room, Tami pulled off his cowboy boots while he lay with his back on the bed. He looked up at the ceiling. He was slurring less now.

"When have you ever been a hole in my mat-resh?" he asked.

"I'm sorry I said that." Tami sat on the edge of the bed, her back against the wall, her legs draped over his. "Those girls just made me angry and jealous. They pissed me off. It pisses me off that you can have sex with any girl you want."

"Why, if I'm not doing it?"

"I don't know why," she admitted. "I don't know why I feel the way I do."

"Maybe you don't trush me."

"I do trust you. It's just a lot of temptation, Eric."

"Yeah? Well Every guy in that frat was eyeing you. Maybe _I_ should be jell-shush. You could have sex with any one of them you want."

"I don't _want_ to have sex with _any_ of them," she muttered. She rested her arms on her bent knees.

"I got a news flash for you, babe. I don't want to have sex with any of those girls either. I want to have it with _you_. Over and over. In lots of different ways. Be-cush I'm madly in love with you." He closed his eyes.

"Are you, sugar? Madly?"

He snored gently.

Tami went to the bathroom (after making sure no one was in there) and then returned. She slipped off her pants and bra, crawled into his bed in just her t-shirt and panties, curled herself between him and the wall, and went to sleep.


	6. 9-4 to 10-13: Repairs

**[Sunday, September 4]**

Tami awoke to the feel of the bed shifting as Eric crawled back in. He was only in his boxers now.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"5 AM. I had to pee. And brush the vomit taste out of my mouth. Go back to sleep."

She snuggled in against him and closed her eyes, but she didn't drift off. "How's your head?" she asked.

"It hurts. But I took some aspirin. Tami, listen…" He put a hand on her hair and stroked it gently. "You could never be a hole in my mattress."

So he remembered last night.

"I've never had casual sex," he told her. "You _know_ that. And I care about you more than anyone."

"I know." She felt overwhelmed, and she wasn't quite sure why. "I'm sorry."

He did a sort of crunch to lift himself and peer down at her. "Are you crying?"

Was she? Maybe just a little. "I think I'm scared," she admitted.

"Of what?"

"You becoming someone else. Especially if you make it to the NFL. You becoming someone other than the guy I love." She thought of what Sarah had said when they went off to college, that they were all saying goodbye to the people they used to be. That was supposed to mean a brighter future, but what if it meant other changes as well?

"Oh." He lay back down and wrapped his arms around her. "I think people become who they are because of the people who influence them. My father has always tried to make me into a gentleman. I don't know how well he's succeeded – "

"- Pretty well, I think."

Eric laughed. " - But he's tried. Joey was a great friend in high school. He grounded me any time my head got too big. And Stumpy, I know you don't like him, but he's kept me out of more trouble than you know. And you….well you bring out the very best in me, Tami. I think, if you stick with me, you could help me become the kind of guy you can admire."

She kissed his cheek. "I already admire you. I'm proud of you. You did great in that game. You deserve a serious victory screw."

He smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. So tell me what you want."

What he wanted was fairly ordinary. He was too tired, and too hung over, for much more.

They made love slowly, their bodies pressed close together, moving unhurriedly, sighing softly.

When both were satisfied, they cuddled together. Beneath the sheet, he stroked her bare back. "Just so you know, I was not thinking of those cheerleaders from last night."

She laughed and caressed his shoulder. "Admit it, though, you thought the idea of a threesome was hot." She'd seen his expression when that cheerleader suggested it, the grin he could not quite suppress.

"In _theory_ maybe. In a fantasy sort of way. But, in real life? Nah. It would be weird. Awkward. I'm a one girl sort of guy, Tami. I think it's just…my nature."

"The male human is not monogamous by nature."

"You learn that in your psychology course?"

"I read it somewhere. Observational evidence seems to corroborate it."

"So you expect I'll cheat on you eventually?" he asked.

"No. I said the male human is not monogamous by _nature_. I didn't say he couldn't _choose_ to be." Mrs. Hernandez had once told her that a woman could make a man's choice to stay faithful either harder or easier by the way she treated him. "Eric, I'm sorry I deserted you at the party, just stormed out instead of…handling that better. That was immature of me."

"I'm sorry I got so drunk. I thought I could handle it better. I really did. It didn't seem like that much at the time. And I'm sorry it took me so long to shake those girls off. I let them get too close too long."

"You _did_ shake them off."

He nuzzled her neck. "I'm not saying I don't get excited like a normal guy when a girl throws herself at me, but there's also something in it that's a turn off. When you don't have to put any effort into it at all…I don't know. It's like a rich kid who gets handed tons of toys by his parents. He starts to get no joy out of them. I don't know what it is, but I kind of…I like the chase."

She chuckled. "So I better keep making you work for it, huh?"

"Well….but…" he protested, "not _too_ hard…"

 **[Saturday, October 1]**

Tami wasn't able to make it to Eric's next two away games. They were too far, and it would cost too much to get there. By the time the Bears were back at the stadium in Waco, playing Houston, Eric was starting. He had a bad first half, though, and was benched. Baylor ended up losing 24-27.

Later, Eric came back to Tami's apartment. They cuddled quietly in bed, but for once, he didn't seem much in the mood to fool around.

"I screwed up," he said.

"You'll do better next time."

"Coach won't start me next time," he said.

"You'll prove yourself again."

"How am I supposed to make it to the NFL," he asked, "if I screw up the first time he starts me?"

"You did really well in that first game," she assured him. "And against Iowa. Y'all defeated them 35-0."

"Because they suck. We lost against Texas Tech too. You notice a theme? The more play time _I_ get, the more likely we are to lose."

"Eric, the coach wouldn't put you in if he didn't think you were good."

"Well, he pulled me out today didn't he?"

She sighed. She scooted down and kissed his ear. "Would a blowjob help?" she whispered. She wasn't going to make him work for it tonight.

He sighed. "No thanks."

"Wow. You really _are_ upset about this."

He rolled onto his back. "Yeah. This is my life, Tami. It's not like…it's not some _hobby_!"

"Okay. Calm down. I know it's important to you. It's just not the end of the world."

"My dad was so disappointed in me."

"Why, what did he say?" Tami asked.

"He didn't say anything! Which said _everything_."

"I'm sorry, sugar," she rolled to her side and kissed his cheek. "I really wish there was something I could do to make you feel better. I love you and I believe in you. I think your coach believes in you, too, and you're going to have another chance to prove yourself."

He swallowed and turned to her. "Sorry I'm being such a grump. I appreciate your support."

She kissed him. "Eric, I believe in you no matter what happens. What I mean is…I believe you'll do great things with your life, because you're smart, and you're determined. And _I_ don't care if those great things are in or out of the NFL. I want you to understand that."

He smiled lightly. "I love you, Tami."

She leaned in and kissed him softly.

He smiled against her lips. "Maybe uh…maybe I'll take you up on that blowjob offer after all."

"I thought you might."

 **[*]**

When Tami came out in the morning, Gretchen and Eric were sitting side by side at the kitchen bar eating grits. "Your boyfriend makes decent grits," she said. "But he's not much of a conversationalist."

"He talks more than you know." Tami trailed her fingertips teasingly along his neck and then went around the bar to the kitchen. She scooped herself a bowl of grits from the pot on the stove.

Gretchen slid off her stool and said, "Well, I have to get to church." She grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

Tami and Eric, dumbfounded, stared at one another.

"She goes to church?" Eric asked.

"I did not know that," Tami said. "First time she's mentioned it. I guess that's where she's been Sunday mornings."

He looked at the closed front door. "Dressed like that?" She'd been wearing a tight short sleeve shirt, such that her tattoos were still visible.

"Should we be going to church?" Tami asked. "I mean, I always went at home. My mom thinks I still am. I know sermons can be boring, but I kind of like the whole…tradition. I like getting dressed up for something. Talking to people when they're being polite. I like the hymns."

"I like the donuts."

"You want to go with me?"

"Tami, I don't have a lot of days to sleep in. And I'm gone half of the Sundays. But if you want, I'll go with you when I'm in town."

She shrugged. "Maybe spring semester."

 **[Thursday, October 13]**

Tami called Eric's room from the Applebee's phone when her car wouldn't start after work. Stumpy answered and told her Eric was at the athletic office, watching game tape. She asked for the number over there, and he said, "Why don't I just come out there? Eric doesn't know jack shit about cars and he probably won't answer the phone over there."

Stumpy was there in twenty minutes. He jump started her car for her. He let the hood of her car slam shut, with the engine now running. "Don't drive this to A&M on Saturday," he told her as she slid back out of the driver's seat. "It might fail on you. Borrow Eric's pick up instead. I'll go get you a new battery tomorrow, and some other parts you need to replace before they go out on you. Sunday, after we get back from the game, I'll fix it up for you. Free of charge. You just reimburse me for the parts."

"Eric was right. You are helpful," she told him.

He wiped his hands on a rag. "I'll take that as a thank you."

"He said you've kept him out of more trouble than I know."

"Eric's a bit of a virgin."

"I don't think so," Tami said with a smile.

"I mean he's out of his league with some of these guys. Some have rap sheets that got waved away in high school because they could play. Some of them have been drinking since they were twelve. Some of them have parents who have been in the KKK, and some have parents who have been in the Black Panthers. Eric needed someone to bring him into the fold without letting him get folded up. That's where I came in."

"I see."

"How's Gretchen? She say anything about our date?"

"No. Didn't mention it. Why? Did you have another one?"

"Yeah. That's why your refrigerator is running again."

"How does your girlfriend feel about you dating Gretchen and having threesomes with cheerleaders at frat parties?"

"I told you I was joking about those cheerleaders. I don't like cheerleaders."

"You sure have a lot of posters of cheerleaders on your wall for someone who doesn't like them." Six cheerleaders were plastered on Stumpy's side of the room, all with skirts and pom-poms, but only two with shirts on.

"I like to look at them. But all that cheerfulness. It grates on my nerves. I need a girl with _bite_. And I don't do threesomes. If I wanted to disappoint two people at once, I'd go to dinner with my parents."

Tami laughed.

"And I told Vicky about Gretchen. She's not really my girlfriend in the way _you_ mean girlfriend. We're old friends who have sex when we happen to see each other. But when we're not together, we're not together. And that's how Vicky wants it."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Sometimes a person just needs an itch scratched. Better to get it scratched by a friend than a stranger who might have crabs."

"If you're friends," Tami said, "you must like spending time together."

"Sure."

"And if you like spending time together _and_ you like having sex with each other, why wouldn't you want a real relationship? I don't understand that at all."

"Well guess what, sweetheart? You don't have to understand it. I'm not _your_ boyfriend." Stumpy opened the door of her car. "Tell Gretchen I said hi."


	7. 10-15: Ten Points

**A/N:** _Please review. Would love to hear what you think of the story._

 **[Saturday, October 15]**

Tami made the drive to College Station in Eric's pick-up (he'd gone down on the team bus). The Bears were battling the Aggies today, which meant she was going to see Mo McArnold again, at least on the field.

She watched her ex-boyfriend and her current boyfriend face off. Eric was put in to play for the second half. Almost immediately, Mo sacked him, after which Mo did a self-satisfied victory dance. Later, however, Eric managed to throw a fairly spectacular touchdown pass. There was hope the Bears might get back in the game, but, in the end, they lost to A&M 28-14.

Mr. Taylor was in town for the game, and afterward Tami, Eric, and his father went out to a late dinner. Tami daydreamed and slowly ate her food while Mr. Taylor dissected his son's game with him, play by play. As Eric discussed the game with his father, the emotion in his eyes drifted from pride (when Mr. Taylor praised him for the touchdown pass), to irritation (when Mr. Taylor advised him as to why he had gotten sacked by Mo and how he could better avoid it in the future), to interest (when they began discussing the history of the competing teams).

Mr. Taylor cut into his steak. "Sorry, Tami, are we boring you?"

She smiled. "I understand how important the post-game dissection is for Eric. I'm just not sure I need to be here for it."

"Well, you're getting a free steak out of the ordeal," Mr. Taylor said. "And dessert, if you want it."

 **[*]**

After dessert, Tami and Eric began the hour and a half drive back to Waco. Eric took command of the pick-up she had driven down. The roads were dark and sparsely populated at nine o'clock on a Saturday.

Twenty miles into their journey, he dropped a hand from the steering wheel to her bare knee, which peeked out just below her skirt. He circled a finger gently against her flesh. "So…." he asked, "Did I do enough work today?'

"I don't know," she teased. "You forgot to pull out my chair at the restaurant."

"I didn't forget. You beat me to it." He eased her skirt up ever so slightly and began caressing her leg just above the knee. "Don't I get credit for that touchdown pass?"

She turned her face to the window and smiled. "Three points." She had to admit, it was a major turn on watching him play.

"How many points do I need?"

"Ten."

"Ten!" He shook his head. He thought for a moment. "I opened the truck door for you."

"Okay, you're up to four."

"I did it twice."

"Fine, five."

"I remembered you like your steak medium rare."

"Six."

He slid his hand a little higher, her skirt crumpling up as he did so. She couldn't help letting her legs fall open just a little.

With one fingertip he caressed her inner thigh. "I didn't get in a fight with Mo. Just for you."

She laughed. "Seven."

He trailed his finger up just a little higher and almost, but not quite, touched her panties.

She was tingling now.

"Instead of going to the football party and then going back on the team bus tomorrow morning, I took you out for a nice dinner and I'm driving you home."

"Your father took us to dinner," she reminded him.

"I suggested your favorite steak house. And I'm driving you home."

"Fine. Eight points."

"That's _two_ things."

She laughed. "Very well. Nine points."

He smiled. He slipped his hand out from under her skirt and slid his arm around her shoulders, urging her closer. She loved that this old pick-up had bench seats. She unbuckled her seat belt, scooted over, and leaned her head against his shoulder.

Eric began to caress her arm, just below her short sleeve shirt, with three fingers. Texas had given them a warm, 78 degree fall evening. He had the windows partially down, because his A/C was on the fritz. The whipping breeze rustled her thick hair.

"You still need one more point," she teased him.

He ran his fingertips slowly up her arm and over her shoulder before slipping his hand down the v-neck of her shirt and into the left cup of her bra. Heat shot through her as he teased her nipple. She closed her eyes. Eric slid his hand out of that cup and dipped it in the other. Tami pushed her legs tightly together to try to tame the tingling that was fast growing to a burn.

His voice low, Eric said, "I just made your nipples rock hard. Surely that's one point?"

Tami couldn't bring herself to speak. Instead, with her eyes closed, she let him continue to toy with her breasts as he drove one handed. He moved his fingers from one to the other, caressing and circling and pinching, while she tried not to whimper.

Tami pushed her thighs as closely together as she could. She was throbbing. Her eyes didn't open until he slipped his hand out of her shirt.

Eric gripped the steering wheel with both hands as he turned off the road into the deserted parking lot of a high school. He roared around back and parked the truck in a far, unlit corner, where he switched off the engine and reached under the bench seat.

There was a crack and then a pop, and Tami yelped as the seat sprung back another three inches, as far as it could go.

Eric patted his lap.

Tami smiled coyly, slipped off her shoes, and slid her panties off from underneath her skirt. She'd just dropped them to the floor of the truck when he swept her onto his lap so that she was facing toward the steering wheel.

Eric brushed her hair to the side. While kissing the back of her neck, he slid his hands beneath her shirt to pop her bra open. When her breasts spilled out, he captured them in his hands and began to softly knead them. Tami moaned.

This would be the first time they'd ever done it in a vehicle. Tami had fooled around plenty in the backseat of Mo's Camaro. Though they'd never gone all the way, she'd given Mo some satisfaction in those close quarters, and she'd always wished for more room and greater comfort. But tonight, room and comfort were far from her thoughts. She just wanted the burning between her legs to stop.

Eric's breath grew raspy, and she could feel his erection against her bottom. "Put your knees on either side of me," he commanded.

Gripping the steering wheel for support, she repositioned herself, a knee on the bench seat to one side of his left leg, and another knee down to the right. This lifted her from his lap, and she could hear him rustling to unsnap and unzip himself.

"Don't forget the condom," she told him, eager for him to hurry up.

"I've got it." She heard the rip of foil and his low groan as he rolled it on himself. "Are you wet enough?" He slid a hand under her skirt to touch her intimately, and her whimper and his own test must have told her she was, because he drew his hand away and pushed into her from behind.

She cried out his name.

"Just right," he murmured. "You feel perfect, Tami. I've fantasized about taking you exactly like this."

Soon enough, Eric had no more words, only breaths and grunts and finally, one long cry of release, which mingled with her own final moan.

Tami collapsed on the steering wheel. The horn let out a loud, long blast.

She threw herself back from it, laughing, and slid off of him to her side of the bench seat. He was sitting with his eyes closed, his head back against the head rest, breathing hard. She smiled and pulled her panties back on, reclasped her bra, and smoothed her skirt. She left her shoes off.

He continued to sit there, eyes closed, breathing in and out.

She buckled back in. "You going to drive me home sometime, sugar?"

He swallowed, licked his lips, and finally opened his eyes. As if in a daze, he took off the condom, put it in a plastic trash bag, and zipped and buttoned himself up. Then he just sat there for a moment more, staring at the wheel and breathing.

She giggled. "That took a lot out of you."

He exhaled a deep breath and drew it in again. "How can you just…" It was a minute before he finished his thought. "You don't need any time at all to recover, do you?"

"What can I say? You energize me."

He smiled and breathed in and out again.

"You need a Gatorade or something, sugar?"

He laughed, slid on his seatbelt, and started the truck.


	8. 11-19 to 11-23: Thanksgiving

**[Saturday, November 19]**

The Bears lost against TCU and Arkansas, but Eric made an impression in the game against Rice, which Baylor won 20 to 10. Baylor beat the Longhorns too, at the home stadium in Waco, by a mere three points. It was the last game of the season. There would be no bowl game this year.

Their old high school friends Joey and Sarah made the hour and a half drive to Waco for the game against their school's team, and afterwards, they all went to a party.

"I hate that the Longhorns lost," Joey told Eric, "but I love that you won. I'm conflicted, man. Conflicted."

Tami and Sarah snuck out of the party, walked across the backyard, and sat on a low brick wall to talk.

"You going home to Tyler for Thanksgiving?" Tami asked.

"Nah. It's a four hour drive, and I have to study. And you know I don't get along with my mom. Joey's going up to see his folks, though. You?"

"Yeah. We're all having dinner together, actually. My mom invited Eric and Mr. Taylor over. It could get weird."

Sarah laughed.

"What's it like having a guy for a roommate?" Tami asked her.

"Joey's a good roommate," Sarah said.

"So it's not weird, him being half in love with you?"

She shrugged. "It's only weird when I bring a guy over."

Tami raised an eyebrow.

"For dinner or to watch TV or something," Sarah told her. "I'm not giving it up just yet. Not until I'm dating someone seriously." She put her cup down on the wall. "Why don't you and Eric just move in together? Your roommate sounds a bit insane."

"Gretchen isn't a bad roommate. Just weird. And Eric doesn't get cash for housing he can take anywhere. They won't cover it if he's not in student housing, and I can't live there. Besides, I'm not sure he's ready for that level of commitment."

Sarah laughed. "Like hell he's not. Daily access to sex? He's ready for that. _You're_ not ready."

"I kind of like my independence," Tami admitted. "I want it in college, you know? And my mother would _freak_ if I _lived in sin_. And, honestly… _I_ don't really want to live with a guy unless we're married."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I feel like that makes it too easy for him."

Sarah laughed. "You like to make Eric run obstacle courses, don't you?"

"Eric likes obstacle courses."

"There they are!" came Joey's voice from the porch.

Eric and Joey made their way over to the wall. Eric was swaying a bit. He grinned at Tami, put a hand down on either side of the wall, and leaned in to kiss her. "I love you," he told her when he pulled away. "You're the dot in my i."

Tami laughed. "You're mushier when you're buzzed, but you're more eloquent when you're sober."

"Just a little buzzed," Eric told her. "Stumpy wouldn't let me get in any drinking contests this time. Neither would Joey."

 **[Thursday, November 23]**

Thanksgiving dinner at the parsonage was somewhat awkward. Shelley had settled into life there, it seemed, but Tami still found it odd, her mother being married to _the pastor_.

Pastor John cast a suspicious eye on Mr. Taylor every time Mom asked him a question or laughed at something he said. The pastor was as polite as polite could be, but it was clear he knew that Mom found Eric's father to be attractive.

"Eric did decently this past season," Mr. Taylor said. "He had his ups and downs, but I think the coach will start him next year."

"Tami is doing well too," her mother said. "She's on track for dean's list this semester. Dean's list!"

Waco Community didn't actually have a dean's list, but Tami expected to earn all As and one B (in Pre-Calculus) by the semester's end.

" _I_ did well," Shelley said, "I'm the head of the cheerleading squad now."

"Your grades have slipped, though, dear," Tami's mom said.

Shelley rolled her eyes, but she stopped rolling them when Pastor John spoke: "You're a very talented cheerleader, Shelley. Great at rallying others. You might make academics more of a priority, though. You don't want to have to play catch up at the last minute. I'm sure Tami can tell you that was difficult."

Tami smiled at Eric. She wouldn't have called her past tutoring sessions with him _difficult_. He smiled back, half looking at her, and half at his plate.

Mr. Taylor pointed to his plate with his fork. "I think this may be the most tender turkey I've ever had, Barbara."

Before Mom could answer, Pastor John said, "So, Garrett, I noticed you at the early service last Sunday. With Karen Jones." First Baptist had two services. Mom went to the late one, but Pastor John, of course, had to preach at both.

"Uh…yes. She invited me to go with her."

"Are you two an…what do the kids say today?" Pastor John asked innocently. "An item?"

Mr. Taylor glanced at Eric and then back at the pastor. "We're dating, yes."

"I don't know Karen well," the pastor said. "She attends sporadically. But she's quite the organizer. She got a church blood drive going last year. Took in a record number of pints for the Red Cross. Very competent woman."

Mr. Taylor smiled. "Yes, she's quite, uh….competent."

Pastor John glanced at Mom. "Every man could use a competent woman."

"Doesn't hurt if she's beautiful, either," Mr. Taylor said.

The pastor shot him a curious look, as though he was trying to figure out whether Mr. Taylor was talking about Karen Jones or Tami's mother. Finally, he replied, "I can't disagree with you, Garret."

As Pastor John, Eric, and Mr. Taylor retreated to the living room, Tami, Shelley, and Mom talked and did dishes in the kitchen. Mom washed, Tami dried, and Shelley put away.

"This is a stereotypical picture if I ever saw one," Tami said. "Men sitting on their asses watching football while we do the real work in the kitchen."

"Tami, don't be crass. Don't use that word." Mom handed Tami a dish. Tami had to think back on what she had to figure out _which_ word her mother meant. "And I'll have you know John did the grocery shopping and peeled the potatoes and mopped the kitchen floor before y'all came. And I suspect Eric drove the entire way from Waco while you just kicked back and relaxed." It was true. He had.

"John's actually pretty egalitarian," Shelley said as she put a plate up in the cabinet. "I really didn't expect that. Thought he'd be all, wives, submit to your husbands."

"There's another half of that verse, Shelley, dear," Mom said. "John knows his _whole_ Bible."

"Yep," Shelley said, "in Greek and Hebrew too. He's like…smart or something. Boring, but smart."

"Shelley!" Mom scolded. "Don't say such disrespectful things of your stepfather."

"I was _complimenting_ him," Shelley insisted.

Eric and Mr. Taylor cheered from the living room.

"I bet John is bored out of his skull," Shelley said.

Tami was surprised by the easy, familiar way Shelley used his first name. Tami still called him _pastor_.

"Oh, he likes football," Mom said.

"He _pretends_ to, Mom," Shelley told her. "Because he pastors a congregation of Texans. He _has_ to pretend to like it." She slid a plate into the cupboard. "I think he's a little jealous of Mr. Taylor, Mom."

"Don't be absurd, Shelley," Mom said. "There's absolutely nothing for him to be jealous of."

After the game, Eric went home with his father, while Tami remained at the parsonage. Eric had tried to persuade her to stay at his house, where he knew his father would turn a blind eye if she snuck into his room, but Tami felt she needed to stay with her family.

It was interesting to her to see Shelley occasionally tease Pastor John, like she might a family member, and to see him respond with mild affection and consternation. The day might come when Shelley actually regarded this man as her father. It made Tami feel like a bit of an outsider.

That night, Mom, Shelley, and Tami sat on the couch watching TV and chatting on and off, while Pastor John sat in an arm chair reading a thick, hardback book of some kind, the dustcover missing.

A half hour later, Mom yawned and stretched and reported that she was going to bed. She came over to kiss Pastor John on the cheek. "Goodnight," she told him.

"'Nite. Love you, dear." He turned a page.

Mom walked a few steps and lingered between the hallway and the living room. "You're not coming to bed also? It's late."

Pastor John looked up, as though someone had just splashed a cold glass of water in his face to get his attention. "Oh," he said. "You…want me to?"

"It's _late_ ," Mom said.

He smiled. "Yes, you're quite right. It's later than I thought. I'll be right there after I lock up."

"He's a bit dense about some things," Shelley told Tami after he'd bid them goodnight and disappeared down the hall, "for a guy with three degrees."

"He has _three_ degrees?" Tami asked. She'd never known that. It wasn't as though he went around calling himself Dr. Wilson.

"B.A. in Classics, M.A. in Divinity, Ph.D. in Theology."

"It's a weird match," Tami reflected. "Him and Mom."

"Mom's not stupid, and Pastor John's not dead."

Tami laughed. "It's funny to see you defending their marriage. You were so dead set against it."

"For the first time in years, Mom's not miserable. And you know, when mama ain't happy – "

" – ain't nobody happy."

Shelley grinned. " _Exactly_. She's chilled out this past semester."

"You've got to pull those grades up, Shell. You were on track. Don't screw around like I did. College applications come up sooner than you think."

"I'm just a sophomore." Shelley changed the channel on the television. "I have plenty of time to figure out if I want to go to college."

"IF!" Tami exclaimed.

A long discussion ensued, during which Tami sometimes felt like she was swimming uphill against a tide. She went to bed that night a bit worried about her baby sister.


	9. 11-24: Developments

**[Friday, November 24]**

Eric called Tami Friday morning. "There's a woman's hair brush in the hall bath," he told her. "And an extra toothbrush."

"Sounds serious," Tami said. "And he admitted he's dating in front of you. Think he'll introduce you?"

"Yeah. He wants me to have lunch with them _today_. Do you mind?" They had planned to go out together.

"I should probably spend some time with my family anyway."

"Listen. Joey's in town. He says there's a football party tonight." Baylor's season might be over, but the Tyler Tigers were still one playoff game away from the State Championship. "Do you want to go? I'd like to catch up with some of my old teammates."

"Sure. Shelley told me she's planning to go, so I want to keep an eye on her anyway. I guess we might as well give her a ride."

"Your mom is letting her go to a party?"

"Apparently Pastor John convinced Mom that, since kids tend to sneak out to these things anyway, it's better they encourage Shelley to be honest and set some expectations. Apparently his son used to sneak out to these things, but now he's an upstanding young man." Tami had never met her stepbrother. He hadn't been able to make it home from his mission in South America for the wedding. She supposed she'd seen him at church when she was younger, but she didn't remember him.

"I think he's actually mellowed your mom."

"You may be right," Tami said. "Funny, since _he's_ the pastor."

"Who's Shelley dating? Anyone?" Eric asked.

"Officially, no. Mom still says not until 16. But she's been talking about some kid named Danny McKinley. What can you tell me about him?"

"Not much. He was a sophomore last year. Not a very good player. Warmed the bench. Probably still does. Never had much to say in the locker room, though, if that reassures you."

"It does. A little."

"Well, at least your mom doesn't have to be a single mother anymore. She can count on Pastor John to scare Shelley's boyfriends now."

Tami laughed. "I don't know. He's so mild. My father was a teddy bear to me, sue, but I bet he would have had _you_ shaking in your boots."

 **[*]**

Tami slid into the cab of Eric's pick-up. Shelley squeezed in next to her on the bench seat. Mom had insisted Shelley be home by 11:30 PM. "Why do you get a later curfew than I did?" Tami asked.

"John told her that if I was going to do something I shouldn't, I could do it before 5 PM anyway. They decided on 11:30 because John doesn't want to wait up later than that to make sure I get in safely."

As Eric pulled into the street, Tami asked him, "How did the lunch go? With your dad's girlfriend?"

"Well…they're engaged."

"Really? You don't sound surprised."

He shrugged. "He's never asked me to meet one before, so, I figured it was close to that point."

"Is that the chick he met at Easter?" Shelley asked. "They're engaged after dating for eight months?"

"Mom dated Pastor John for about that long," Tami pointed out.

"These old people move _fast_ ," Shelley said.

"Well, do you like her?" Tami asked Eric.

He made a left turn. "He likes her. That's all that matters."

"Is that a no?"

"I don't know, Tami. She seems perfectly fine. She wants to marry my dad. He wants to marry her. What more do I need?"

"I wanted more for my mom," Tami said. "More than Pastor John."

"More than a decent man who wants to marry her and that she wants to marry?" Eric asked. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. They aren't passionate about each other. Is your dad passionate about this woman?"

"What does that even mean?" Eric asked.

"I don't know," Tami admitted. "It means…something more than what my mom and Pastor John have, is all. I think they must hardly ever have sex. He seemed so shocked when my mom hinted she wanted it last night."

"Seeing Eric's hot dad probably got her all worked up," Shelley said.

Eric gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead.

"You think she's actually _attracted_ to him?" Tami asked Shelley. "Pastor John, I mean."

"I'm pretty sure they do it at least every Sunday afternoon, so she can't hate it. And I'm glad she's finally getting _some_. It sure has loosened her up."

Eric cleared his throat.

"When's your dad's wedding?" Tami asked him.

He seemed relieved by the change in subject. "June. They haven't set an exact date yet."

"Are they going to have kids?" Shelley asked.

Eric drifted out of his lane and swerved back. "What?"

"Kids. Are they planning to have kids?"

"I…it didn't even occur to me to ask that." He gripped the steering wheel a bit tightly. "Is your mom and Pastor John?"

"She's forty-one," Shelley said. "He's fifty-one. I seriously doubt it. But your dad isn't quite forty. And this chick is still, what, early thirties?"

"If they had kids," Eric said, "I'd be old enough to be my sibling's _father_."

Tami laughed. "Neither of us is old enough to be parents, Eric."

"Biologically, we are."

"But not _practically_ ," she insisted.

"That's for sure." He pulled along the curb, behind a line of cars.

Shelley opened the truck door.

In the house, Eric immediately found Joey, and together they drank beer and reminiscence with some of their old Tiger teammates. Meanwhile, Shelley introduced Tami to Danny. Tami sized him up, saw he was drinking New Coke instead of beer, and decided he was not a major threat to Shelley. She eventually wandered into the kitchen because she'd seen somebody walking around with a small plate of chips and salsa, and she wanted some of that.

Tami found the chips on the kitchen island. She didn't know whose house this was, but the kitchen was huge. It was practically the size of her entire apartment. In Tyler, you could drive from trailer to McMansion in the space of two miles.

She dipped her chip and took a bite and was startled by the feel of a hand on the small of her back. She yelped. She turned and saw Mo. He had on a cowboy hat. He never used to wear a cowboy hat. He had on a bolo tie too.

"Hey, Sunshine," he said. "Is that salsa as spicy as you are?"

"Jesus, Mo, you startled me." She pointed to the salsa. "It's kind of bland."

He leaned against the counter. "I saw Eric out in the living room. Said hello."

"Did you refrain from slamming him against the wall?"

"He slammed _me_ against the wall. I slammed him against the lockers." Mo plucked up a chip and dipped it in the salsa. "Water under the bridge. We're pals again." He bit down on the chip.

"You two were never _pals_."

Mo shrugged, finished his chip, and licked his fingers. "You two still dating?"

"Yes."

"That's a shame, because I still think of you as the one that got away."

"Well I'm sure you're busy with the A&M cheerleaders."

"They do seem to like me. I'm great in the sack. And I'm great at sacking quarterbacks, too. But you saw that game."

Tami rolled her eyes. She plucked up a red solo cup and poured herself some punch from the punch bowl next to the chips. It was probably spiked, she realized, so she'd only have one cup.

"I played on Thanksgiving," Mo continued, "so we didn't have our family dinner until yesterday. But Eric's last game was …what…November 19?"

"They won that game," Tami said, "against the Longhorns. 17 to 14."

"So what are you doing in Waco? Just hanging out, playing rally girl?"

"I'm going to community college. Working on keeping my grades up so I can transfer to Baylor. Waitressing."

"Dating Eric."

She took a sip of her punch. "Dating Eric," she agreed. "You know it's amazing," she said as she lowered her cup, "but I don't feel any anger towards you anymore. At all."

"I wasn't as big a jerk as you think I was."

"Oh, you were. I'm just so far beyond caring about that now. I feel like we could even be friends. You used to be fun. I imagine you make a better friend than a boyfriend."

"I made a pretty good boyfriend, though, didn't I? I mean, forget about that silly mistake. Other than that, I was a pretty damn good boyfriend, wasn't I?"

Eric's unique laugh wafted into the kitchen from the living room. "I think I better investigate what my boyfriend is up to."

Mo trailed her out to the living room, where the furniture had been moved to the side, and Eric was in the process of wrestling the Tiger's new varsity quarterback. They were surrounded by a circle of teenage boys and girls, who were chanting either Eric's name or that of his opponent, Cole.

Eric grappled Cole to the ground and pinned him. Cole began moving in a circle on the carpet, trying to work his way loose.

"Sexy," Mo said, and sipped his solo cup of beer. "Is Eric that good at pinning you in bed?"

"Mo, you did not just say that. I do not believe you just said that."

"Why, you think it's childish? More childish than what he's doing right now?"

"Eric's having fun. Cole's having fun. They're both having fun."

The match went on for another five minutes, until Cole finally tapped out. Eric stood and ran a hand through his hair. He grinned at Tami, saw Mo, and frowned. He came over to them. "Whatcha got?" he asked, looking into Tami's cup.

"Punch. Spiked. Pretty strong." She handed it to him. "And I better not drink it all, as I'm obviously going to have to be the designated driver tonight."

He handed it back to her. "Nah, I'm sober. I've only had two beers. I can stop drinking and you can drink it if you want."

"Trying to get your girl drunk, Taylor?" Mo asked. "Think it'll increase your odds of finally getting laid by her?"

"McArnold, man, it's Thanksgiving weekend. A time of gratitude. I don't want to have to break your nose tonight. So just apologize."

"Apologize. For what? For stealing your girlfriend? Oh, wait, that wasn't me who did that. That was _you_."

"This again?" Tami asked. She sighed. Then she saw the heat in Eric's eyes, the flickering anger, the way he was staring down Mo. She put a hand on his chest. "I want to go," she said. "Let's go."

"I'm not ready to go," Eric said, his eyes locked with Mo's. "We've only been here an hour and a half."

She put her lips to his ear. "If you have any hope of getting laid tonight, you'll leave now."

Eric took Tami's hand. "On second thought," he said, still staring down Mo, "why don't we go have our own party, baby?"

Eric pulled Tami over to Joey. "Tami wants to go. Can you promise to keep an eye on Shelley for us, give her a ride home later? By 11:30?"

"What if I want to stay later?" Joey jerked his head toward a leather couch, where a cheerleader sat, smiling in his direction. Tami knew her vaguely, Juanita Sanchez. The other cheerleaders made fun of her because she was plump for a cheerleader, but she could tumble like nobody's business. She was always at the bottom of the pyramid, of course. She'd be a senior this year.

"Oh," Eric said. "Ah. Wow. Okay. Well, we'll just have to take her home now."

"But I want to hang with y'all before you head back tomorrow. Lunch?" Joey suggested.

They made plans.

Shelley just about pitched a fit when they made her leave with them, insisting she could find a ride home. She sat in Eric's truck, slumped and scowling, her arms crossed over her chest the entire time.

"Looks like Sarah has competition," Tami said as they drove home.

"You can't have competition if you're not even willing to play the game," Eric said.

"I mean for Joey's affections. Maybe he'll get over her."

"I sure hope so."

"Well, Danny's going to get over _me_ ," Shelley whined, "because you made me leave the party."

Eric glanced at her with annoyance. "I don't think _that's_ why he's going to get over you."

Shelley flicked him off.

"I remember when you used to be sweet and innocent," Tami said. "And you read all the time."

"I still read all the time," Shelley said. "And you know what I've figured out? There's a huge, wide world beyond Texas. And I want to explore it."

"Well, you'll be able to afford to do that after you go to a good college and get a degree," Tami said.

Shelley rolled her eyes and turned to look out the window.

Tami rested her head on Eric's shoulder. "Sorry I made you leave, sugar, but I like your face. I don't want you fighting with Mo."

"Well, you can make it up to me later tonight."

"Oh, you're going back to his place, are you?" Shelley asked. "How are you going to explain that you're dropping me off and going back out?"

"I'm not going to explain, Shell. I'm nineteen. I'm an adult. I don't have to explain. I'm just going to tell Pastor John I'm staying at Eric's house tonight."

[*]

It was only 10 PM when they got to Eric's house. The porch light was on, and the living room light, but Mr. Taylor was nowhere to be found. "Guess he's asleep already," Eric said, and led her to his bedroom.

They were just starting to make-out under the sheets, Eric's shirt off but Tami's still on, when a loud, masculine moan – not Eric's - penetrated the silence.

"I guess he's _not_ asleep," Tami said.

A woman's voice further pierced the quite night: "Garret! God, _yes_! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!"

"Wow," Tami said. "She's a screamer. And she likes the f word."

Eric put the pillow over his ears.

Tami laughed. She lifted one edge of the pillow and asked, "You told him we wouldn't be home until at least midnight, didn't you?"

He nodded.

"Let's leave and come back," she suggested.

Eric was out of the bed and down the hall and out the front door in a flash. They went back to the party. Mo was gone, probably upstairs with some girl. Eric and Tami ended up just standing around the kitchen talking to some old classmates.

When they returned two hours later, Mr. Taylor was sitting on the couch with his arm around a woman Tami could only presume to be his fiancé. They were watching _Moonstruck_ on the VCR.

Mr. Taylor rose, and so did the woman. He introduced her to Tami as Ms. Karen Jones.

"Are you still thinking about medical school?" Tami asked her. She recalled Mr. Taylor mentioning that to her mother on Easter.

"Yes, but not this year. I'm still knocking out a few prerequistes I missed in college. You'd think a B.S. in nursing would cover it, but no."

They chatted for a while longer, Eric appearing very uncomfortable. Eventually, he said, "Well, I think Tami and I should get to sleep. We have to leave early for Waco tomorrow."

"I'm going to take Karen home," Mr. Taylor said. "The guestroom is made up, Tami."

Despite the pretense, the guest bedroom bed was never touched. Tami lay on her back in the old bed where Eric had first given her the "special kisses" so many months ago, biting down on his Dallas Cowboys bandanna to silence her cries as he pleased her with his tongue before sliding back up her body, sliding in, and taking his own pleasure.


	10. 1989: New Year, New Surprises

**[Saturday, December 24, 1988]**

Eric took Tami's hand, squeezed, and smiled. She looked up from her church bulletin and smiled back. Pastor John walked to the pulpit and began his Christmas sermon. Tami's mother shushed Shelley, who was leaned forward and whispering to the teenage boy in front of her. Mr. Taylor slid an arm around his fiance's shoulder. Tami heard him whisper to her, "The Episcopalians have a lot more fanfare on Christmas" and heard Karen Jones whisper back, "Shush, darling."

Eric and Tami had Christmas Eve dinner at the parsonage, and the family exchanged presents. Pastor John got Tami's Mom a diamond heart pendant, which caused her eyes to widen in both pleasure and concern. "John," she said. "This is too much. This - "

"- My love, it's _Christmas_."

Eric got Tami a necklace also, with a small birthstone. "Not quite so impressive," he whispered to her, and she whispered back how much she loved it.

When Mom was in bed, and Pastor John was in his private sanctuary in the loft, and Eric had gone to his father's house to spend the night, Tami asked Shelley how she was doing in school.

"School, school, school. Tam, there's more to life than school!" Shelley insisted. She leaned forward and whispered, "Last weekend I lost my virginity! To Danny!"

Tami closed her eyes. "You're barely 16, Shell."

"Geez, Tam, we used protection. And you were 15."

"I _regretted_ it. Does he love you?"

"I bet he does now."

Tami wasn't sure if she wanted to throttle Shelley, cry, or gather her baby sister into her arms. In the end she just sat where she was and said, "When you get your heart broken, remember, I'm just a phone call away."

 **[Sunday, December 25]**

On Christmas day, Tami joined Eric at his father's house for dinner. His aunt and uncle had made the drive from Oklahoma, and Mr. Taylor's fiance was also present for the meal.

Eric's Aunt Patty drew Tami aside and showed her photos of Eric as a baby in a small album she'd brought with her.

"What are you doing?" Eric asked her when he wandered into the living room and peered down at the book, which was open to a picture of him sleeping on the floor on his stomach, his butt stuck up high in the air.

Tami laughed at the picture. "He still sleeps like that sometimes," she said, and then flushed, and covered her mouth with her hand.

Aunt Patty raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She turned a page, where Eric sat in his father's lap, chewing on the top of a football. Mr. Taylor looked so very young, not much older than Eric was now, and tired, his hair a frazzled, medium brown, not so dark as it was now. But he was smiling at his son, and Tami saw a lot of Eric in that smile.

Eric sat down on the other side of Tami. "I've never seen these," he said, leaning over the album. "I don't think my dad has a baby book of me."

"Men," his aunt said. "They don't understand the importance of such things."

Now Mr. Taylor, Eric's Uncle Joe, and Karen Jones wandered in and took up seats. The book was passed around, Karen laughing at "how adorable, how very adorable," Mr. Taylor was as a young man.

"I'm not adorable now?" he asked her.

"Well, _I_ adore you," she said.

Mr. Taylor asked Tami what classes she would be taking next semester.

"Calculus - because I have to as a prerequisite for statistics, Psychology of Personality - "

"- That sounds interesting," Karen told her.

"I'm really looking forward to it," Tami agreed. "Anatomy and Physiology - that's required for a Psychology Associates for some reason."

"I've been through that course," Karen said. "There's a lot of memorization, but it's not difficult."

"Public Speaking. It's recommended. I guess it will help me with counseling one day."

"Eric should take that," Mr. Taylor said. "He needs to learn to speak before groups."

"I do just fine speaking before groups, Dad," Eric insisted.

"You could learn to enunciate better," Mr. Taylor suggested. "In case when you retire as a quarterback from the NFL, you want to coach."

"Maybe he'll coach instead of going to the NFL," Tami said. She didn't like how certain Eric's father seemed to be that Eric would fulfill the goal he never had. She thought Eric _could_ , but if he didn't, the fall would be hard, especially when his father seemed to expect nothing less.

"Why would he want to do that?" Mr. Taylor asked.

Karen put a hand over his hand. "Are you taking a fifth class?" she asked Tami.

"Business Writing," Tami said, letting the moment pass. "It fulfills a core requirement."

 **[Monday, January 16, 1989]**

Tami looked away from the blackboard and out the window. The snow had started to fall hard a few minutes before she walked into her Calculus class. It rarely snowed in this part of Texas. They'd get a light dusting a few times a winter, which wouldn't even stick to the ground. But these were rare, large, soft flakes, coming down in sheets.

She returned her attention to the teacher.

When she walked out of the building after class, the snow was a gentle sprinkle, but there was at least five or six inches on the ground, more than she'd ever recalled seeing. As she slipped on her second glove, she was suddenly seized by the waist and pulled into a half hug.

Eric stood there, white flakes of snow in his dark hair, a red scarf around his neck, grinning. He kissed her.

"What are you doing all the way on my campus?" she asked.

He took her hand and tugged. "C'mere. I want to show you something."

"What?"

"It's a surprise."

He led her to his pick-up truck, which he kicked into four wheel drive to crunch over the accumulated snow. Stumpy would laugh at them, she was sure, for thinking there was anything at all to a few inches of snow.

They drove for a while and parked in a ditch at the bottom of a hill. There were kids on the hill, sledding on cardboard boxes and For Sale signs and trashcan lids and whatever else they could find, because no one actually owned a sled in Waco.

Eric opened the back of his pick-up as Tami leaned against the truck and watched the laughing children. The titters of joy made her grin. Eric came around the side of the truck holding an actual plastic sled. "Where did you get that?" she asked in amazement.

"That's my little secret." He grinned and tugged her up the hill.

They sped down the hills three times, laughing, Tami leaned back against Eric's chest, before they were willing to surrender the sled to one of the begging children. The kids took turns, and while they waited, engaged Tami and Eric in a snowball fight of epic proportions, which ended with Eric as the primary target, covered from head to toe in snow.

When they headed back to the pick-up truck an hour later, Eric leaving the sled behind with the still eager kids, Tami paused. "I have to make a snow angel before we go. I may never be able to do this again." She threw herself down in the snow, looked up at him grinning down at her, and flapped her arms and legs in joyful geometric patterns. He helped her up and looked down at her creation. "Not bad," he said.

She draped her arms around his neck, felt the flakes gathered in his hair, and kissed him. "Thank you," she said. "I needed this today."

"I love to make you smile," he told her. "I'm surprised that smile didn't melt all the snow."

She laughed at his cheesy line and rewarded him with a deep kiss. She glanced back at the hill, which was more mud than snow by now, but still the kids were sledding down it, would, she was sure, until it was completely impossible to do so. And then they would _roll_ down it.

"I miss being a kid," she said. "I miss my father." It was always that way – whenever she thought of her father, it happened suddenly, out of seeming nowhere, simply because some childhood memory was triggered.

She thought the comment must seem abrupt to Eric, but he only put an arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head. "I know. I'm here."

 **[Tuesday, February 14, 1989]**

When Tami got home from her Valentine's date with Eric (she hadn't invited him back to the apartment with her, as she had an 8:30 AM class on Wednesday, and he had an early work-out), Gretchen was sitting with her feet up on the coffee table and watching TV. A red rose lay on the table beside her black boots, creating a stark contrast.

Tami slumped down in the chair. "Where'd you get the rose? Didn't you have to work tonight?"

"Stumpy came to Bazooka's tonight. Left it for me with his check. I kind of hate that he can stop by and see my tits whenever I'm working. I've made it clear he's not getting past first base with me, no matter how many times I let him take me out. But he can just pop in at my work and...gaze."

"Then maybe you should consider another job."

Tami didn't really understand why Stumpy kept fixing things in exchange for dates with Gretchen, when she wasn't allowing him to do anything more than pay for her dinner and then neck with her on the balcony. He had plenty of girls who were willing to go to bed with him. Tami supposed he was playing the field, but she would have thought he'd have given up on Gretchen by now, that he would have figured out she was using him.

("They're using each other," Eric told her when they discussed the weird relationship over dinner tonight. "Stumpy's getting something out of it too. He really likes her, Tami. I mean, he just likes _being_ with her. I know you find it hard to believe. So do I. But it's true.")

"As soon as I have my associates," Gretchen told her. "This summer. Trust me, I will. But I need the money now."

The phone rang, and as Gretchen made no move to answer it, Tami did. On the other end of the line, Shelley was crying.

"Are you with Eric? Or can you talk?" Shelley asked.

"No, Eric's not here."

"Danny dumped me!"

Tami slid down the wall to sit on the floor. She figured she was in for a long talk.


	11. 1989: Spring Has Sprung

**[Monday, April 24, 1989]**

The door to Eric's dorm room flew open and Tami yanked the bed sheet up over them.

"Damn!" Stumpy exclaimed. "Eric, man, you're supposed to put the tie on the door."

"I did!"

Stumpy opened the door and looked on the handle. He looked down on the ground. He plucked up the fallen tie. "Ah. It fell."

"Man, you had to have stepped _right_ over that," Eric said.

Stumpy came in, pulled out his desk chair, and sat in it. "Don't worry, Tami, I didn't get to see anything."

Eric had so far gotten her down to her panties.

"Stumpy, _leave_ ," Eric said. "Come back in an hour."

"Aw, man, don't worry about it. She's probably not in the mood anymore anyway."

Eric shook his head.

"And I have big news."

"Yeah? What?"

"Ray Crockett," Stumpy said. "And John Simpson."

Eric sat bolt upright. Tami had to grasp the sheet to make sure it didn't fall below her breasts. "Both of them?" Eric asked. "They _both_ got drafted?"

Stumpy nodded. "Ray's going to the Lions. John's going to the Bears."

Eric leapt out of bed in only his boxers and pulled on his pants. "That means there's a chance for us one day," he said.

"Well, a chance for _you_ anyway," Stumpy told him.

Eric looked at Tami. "You want to go party?" he asked her. "This is cause for celebration. John _and_ Ray."

She threw up a hand. "Why not?" she asked. "But, Stumpy, would you mind stepping out of the room?"

 **[Friday, May 19, 1989]**

Eight of Eric's teammates graduated from Baylor that May. Two would go on to summer training for the NFL. Gretchen earned her associate's degree in business accounting and resolved to begin applying for jobs that would finally enable her to make more than she did at Bazookas, without having to take off her shirt.

That night, Eric brought a six pack and a bottle of wine to Tami's apartment to celebrate the end of their freshman year and Gretchen's graduation. With him, he brought Stumpy.

"How long do y'all have off before summer classes and work-outs?" Tami asked as she opened the cupboard and pulled down the two wineglasses she had bought last week. Stumpy didn't drink wine, and Gretchen didn't drink period.

"Two weeks," Stumpy said. "Then it's right back to work outs. And summer classes."

"Headed to New York for the break?" Gretchen asked as she pulled open a drawer and slapped the cork screw on the counter top. When Stumpy nodded, she said, "Well, tell your sometimes girlfriend I said hello, and remember to wrap it when you're fucking her."

Eric shot Tami a look of discomfort, and Tami shrugged. He should know by now that Gretchen was...Gretchen.

"Well you know who I'd _rather_ be doing," Stumpy said.

Gretchen snorted and went to the fridge for a Sprite. She cracked it open with a loud hiss, about the same time Stumpy cracked open a beer. "Get a glass," Stumpy said, "I'll mix them. Make you a shandy. You'll like it."

"You know I'm Straight Edge."

"Aren't you a little old for that Straight Edge stuff by now?" Stumpy asked. "Come on. Just try one shandy. It'll loosen you up, and I know you're funny when you're not pissed off. I've seen it."

"Oh what the hell," Gretchen said. "It _is_ my graduation after all. And I'll be entering the business world. I think you _have_ to drink cocktails there or something."

They settled in the living room, Gretchen with her shandy, Tami with her wine, and Eric and Stumpy with their beer. They talked about their future plans. Tami was going to be working full-time this summer, plus overtime - six days a week, nine hours a day, waitressing.

"That's a hell of a lot of time on your feet," Gretchen told her.

"I looked into which of my classes will transfer to Baylor, and basically - almost nothing I need to take my spring semester at Waco. So I'm going to try to transfer after the fall instead. I've got to save up some money. Baylor is over $5,000 a year. I only have $500 left of the money my mom gave me."

"Bet you'll get at least a partial academic scholarship," Eric assured her. "You have a 3.85 this year."

"I can't wait to get a real job," Gretchen said.

"I'm sure you'll make a great accountant or business manager or whatever," Stumpy told her. "But I'll miss seeing you at Bazookas. Don't guess I'll bother to go there anymore."

Gretchen laughed and shook her head. "Yeah. Right."

"I only went for you."

Gretchen turned away from Stumpy to look at Eric. "What classes are you taking this summer?"

"Two courses for my history major. History classes are my hardest, so I thought I should get 'em done in summer when I don't have games."

"But you have work-outs," Tami reminded him. "Then camp. And you'll be working part-time at the bookstore. It's going to be one busy summer."

"I don't know why you don't just major in P.E.," Stumpy said, "instead of double majoring in P.E. and history."

If Eric didn't make it to the NFL, he would likely have to teach while he coached. Someone who could teach history, P.E., and coach football? Tami thought he ought to be attractive to a lot of junior high and high schools.

"Seriously, man," Stumpy continued. "You should make it easy on yourself."

Eric snorted. "Says the guy who just declared a major in mechanical engineering."

Gretchen raised and eyebrow. "Seriously?"

Stumpy shrugged. "Eh. It's easy for me. I'm good at math. And seeing how things work."

Tami smiled and leaned against Eric on the couch. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. When the beer and wine were gone, they slipped off quietly to Tami's bed, while Stumpy and Gretchen remained in the living room to talk.

 **[Saturday, June 3, 1989]**

Eric and Tami returned to Tyler for Mr. Taylor's summer wedding. Pastor John performed the ceremony, since Karen attended his church. As Mr. Taylor and his new wife departed for their honeymoon, the traditional rice was thrown in their direction. Tami hadn't even been trying, but somehow she caught the bouquet as it sailed from the new Mrs. Taylor's hands straight in her direction. She looked at it and laughed.

Eric smiled and whispered, "Who knows? Maybe in three years, you'll get really lucky and marry a rookie NFL player."

It was the first time he had ever mentioned the possibility of marriage. Still, three years seemed a lifetime away. They both had a lot to accomplish before then, and no doubt some growing yet to do.

Eric looked so incredibly handsome in his tux that Tami couldn't wait to get him in his old bedroom later that night. They had the house to themselves. As he leaned against the desk where he'd once done his high school homework, she tugged loose his bow tie and yanked his shirt from his pants before fumbling madly with his belt buckle.

He laughed. "You're in a hurry."

They started on the desk but ended up in the bed eventually, and afterward they talked about Eric's summer classes, her job, and the upcoming football season.

It was quiet for awhile, and Tami was drifting off to sleep, when he said, "My dad's married. That's...weird."

Tami smiled. He'd been so nonchalant about the engagement, but she'd suspected he must have his concerns. "That's how I felt when my mom got married. I never imagined her with anyone but my dad."

"I never imagined my dad with _anyone_. I never _saw_ him with anyone. He's thirty-nine. He's lived his entire adult life alone."

Tami kissed his shoulder. "Well, maybe he's tired of being alone."

"Karen seems like such a career woman. And I feel weird calling her that. Karen. But what else can I call her? I'm sure as hell not calling her Mom. She's not Ms. Jones anymore. And Mrs. Taylor...well...that's even weirder."

"So what if she _is_ a career woman?" Tami asked defensively. Surely Eric wasn't opposed to women working?

"It's just...my dad is used to having things his way. She's used to having things her way. They both have lives already. Different houses. Different churches. Different friends. Different goals. How does that work?"

"I don't know. I'm sure they'll work it out. Your dad waited a long time to get married, Eric. Maybe he was waiting for just the right person. Did you think of that?"

"Maybe he was just waiting for me to move out of the house, and he proposed to the woman he _happened_ to be dating at the time."

"Maybe," Tami said. "Or maybe they have strong chemistry. I mean, you heard them that one night."

Eric groaned. "Did you _have_ to remind me of that?"

Tami chuckled. "I worried about my mom, too, and their marriage has turned out fine. So far. We have to let our parents make their own decisions."

Eric laughed, and Tami smiled. It did sound odd. They were the kids, not the other way around. Except, they weren't exactly kids anymore...but they weren't quite adults yet either.

Life was marching on, a little too quickly.


	12. 1989: A Fall Failure

**[Friday, August 4]**

Tami immediately slumped onto the couch when she got home from work and slid off her shoes.

"Feet hurt?" Gretchen asked her. She was on the couch herself, feet up on the coffee table, reading a financial planning guide.

"Yeah," Tami answered. "Maybe 54 hours a week was a bit much. But the overtime is great."

"I'm telling you, if you're trying to save up for a transfer to Baylor in the spring, you'd make great tips at Bazookas. You wouldn't have to work so many hours. And there's an opening for a waitress, since I quit today."

"You did? Which job did you get?"

Gretchen had been sending out applications and interviewing all summer. "I'll be in charge of payroll at an office in Crawford."

"Crawford? So are you moving soon?" Tami would have to scramble to find a roommate to share the rent for the fall.

"No. I'll commute. I'll share the apartment with you for another semester, and by then I should be able to afford my own place closer to work. You might want to move closer to Baylor anyway." Currently, it was a 15-20 minute drive between campuses.

Tami was surprised to find herself thinking it, but she was going to miss Gretchen.

"Eric coming over tonight?" Gretchen asked her.

"No, he has to do night inventory at the bookstore today." He'd been so busy this summer, as had Tami. They didn't see each other as often as they would like.

"Stumpy's going to stop by tomorrow morning and fix that leaky faucet," Gretchen told her.

"You mean the one you took the washer out of yesterday?" Tami asked with a smirk.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gretchen insisted.

"You don't want to admit you actually want to date him."

"He said he completely broke it off with that chick in New York when he went home last weekend for his brother's wedding."

"And do you believe him?" Tami asked.

"Funny thing…I do," Gretchen said. "Stumpy's bluntly honest. About everything. He just says what he thinks all the time."

"Hmmm….I don't know anyone else like that."

Gretchen smiled tightly.

"Well, except there is _one_ thing you aren't being honest about," Tami told her.

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Look, Gretchen, just tell Stumpy you like him and you want to date him for _real_. Tell him you want to be his girlfriend. His only girlfriend."

"But I _don't_ want to be his girlfriend. He's three years younger than me. We're too different. He's a football player, for Christ's sake. He listens to Bruce Springsteen and John Mellencamp."

"Fine. Then keep breaking things around the apartment, making him fix them, and rewarding him with dates."

"I'm glad you see the wisdom of my plan."

 **[Saturday, September 30, 1989]**

"That's my boy, that's my boy, that's my boy!" Mr. Taylor shouted, standing, as Eric ran toward the end zone in a completely unexpected touchdown attempt after the snap.

Tami screamed and whistled and jumped and clapped.

The new Mrs. Taylor smiled at her husband's boyish excitement. Mr. Taylor hugged and kissed his wife when the announcer screamed, "Touchdown!"

"Did you see that?" he asked her. "Did you see my boy?"

"I did see him," Karen said, and laughed and put an arm around his waist.

Baylor had lost the first two games of the season, but won the third. Today, they were playing Texas Tech, and at halftime, it hadn't been clear who was going to win.

Mr. Taylor pointed toward the field, where Eric was being jostled and cheered by his teammates. "NFL material!" he shouted. "Right there!"

 **[Monday, October 9, 1989]**

Tami slid her transfer application to Baylor into the big blue mailbox outside her apartment complex while Eric crossed his fingers.

"I'll have to find a new roommate next spring," she said. "Whether I make it to Baylor or not."

"I hope you get a nicer roommate next time."

"Gretchen is nice when she wants to be."

"How often does she want to be?" Eric asked.

"Well, she turned out to be pretty easy to live with, after all." She sighed. "I better get a grant or scholarship or something."

"When will you hear back?" Eric asked her.

"In November. Around my birthday." She'd be turning 20, a month before Eric did. They weren't going to be teenagers anymore.

Eric grinned and wiggled an eyebrow. "Think we should go up to your room for a good luck tumble?"

She laughed. "Sure, but you'll have to earn it first."

"I let you bounce your application essay ideas off me."

"One point," she said as she turned and walked toward the apartments.

"I wore your favorite T-shirt today." He had on a tight, black one that emphasized his broad shoulders. She'd mentioned once that she thought he looked sexy in it.

"Two points," she said as she put a foot on the stairs.

He swept her up unexpectedly, so that her legs were draped over his arms and she had to cling to his neck for support. "I carried you up the stairs to bed..."

 **[Saturday, October 28, 1989]**

In their afternoon homecoming game, the Baylor Bears massacred Texas Christian 27 to 9. Mr. Taylor left as soon as the game was over to head back to Tyler, and Tami and Eric went to a homecoming semi-formal event.

"I'm so proud of you," Tami whispered in his ear as they danced, and she felt proud to have him in her arms, too. She could feel the jealous gaze of other girls.

Eric pulled back and looked into her eyes. "You know, I just might make it to the NFL after all."

"Make it or not, Eric, I'm still going to love you."

He pressed his forehead against hers and kissed her. "Let's get out of here," he whispered. "Stumpy's out partying. There's no one back at my room."

She made him dance another three songs before she let him take her to his bed.

 **[*]**

Tami was coming down from the crest of the wave, catching her breath in the aftermath of her orgasm, when Eric yelled, "Oh Goddamn it! Shit! Fuuuuck!"

Eric rarely swore in front of her, other than the occasional _damn_ or _hell_. He _never_ strung three strong expletives together in a row like that. Alarmed, Tami sat straight up in the bed. "What's wrong?"

"I think it broke," he said. "The condom broke."


	13. November 1989: Waiting

**[Saturday, November 11, 1989]**

There was no sense worrying about the broken condom. It was just the one time, after all, and the condom had probably caught most of Eric's boys anyway. What were the odds, really, that Tami could get pregnant from just the one slip up? They would wait to worry about it if she missed her next period. Or so they told each other.

But Tami worried.

Every day she worried.

She suspected Eric was worried to. At his away game in Arkansas, which she listened to on the radio in her apartment as she swept the kitchen, he fumbled twice and was benched. The second string quarterback was brought in.

"Wow, Eric's playing like shit," Gretchen observed. She was around a lot more often now that she wasn't working at Bazookas. With the commute, she was only gone 8-6 Monday through Friday. She was eating her dinner at the kitchen table now. "What's Stumpy's position again?"

"He's a tight end." Tami dumped the dust pan in the trash.

"Yes, he does have a nice ass," Gretchen agreed, "but what _position_ does he play?"

Tami laughed.

"Is that offense or defense?" Gretchen asked.

Tami wasn't sure if she was still joking or if she really didn't know. "You should learn about football if you're going to date him."

"I'm not really dating him," Gretchen insisted. "Although we did somehow end up having sex Thursday night."

"Really?" Eric had not reported this information to her. Had Stumpy not told him?

"Just the once. It'll never happen again."

"Sure it won't."

"I don't know how Stumpy's doing in this game," Gretchen complained. "They never mention him."

"They just did. When they said #15 opened up a hole in the defense. That's Stumpy. 15."

"Oh. What's that mean?"

Tami sighed, put the broom behind the fridge, hung up the dust pan on the side, and sat down at the kitchen table. The radio rested on its edge, near the wall. "It means Baylor might manage to score one touchdown before they lose this game."

 **[Friday, November 17, 1989]**

No Ramen noodles tonight. No free, guest-pass trip to one of the Baylor dining halls. No employee discounted food at Applebee's. Eric had taken Tami to a real restaurant tonight, with cloth tablecloths and candles in little blue jars.

It was her twentieth birthday, and the best present of all? She'd received an acceptance letter from Baylor this afternoon. She could start in the spring. Baylor would give her a 50% tuition waver as long as she maintained a 3.4 average.

"So," she said as she forked some lettuce from her salad, "That means tuition and fees will be about $1,300 for the spring. I've got $500 left from my mom. I managed to save $1,500 over the summer. That still leaves me $700 for next fall, and I can work a lot over the summer again. I think I'm set, at least until half way through my junior year. What I do then...I don't know."

"There's always loans," Eric said. He pushed his salad aside. "This has leaves in it."

"It's got arugla and spinach and endive and all sorts of mixed greens. It's good, sugar. You have to broaden your tastes beyond iceberg."

"It's a scam. When did they start making salads like this? They collect bitter leaves from the ground, convince you it's fancy, and then charge you more."

She laughed. "Well, you should at least like the steak. And you ordered a huge one."

"Well, coach said I need to bulk up."

"You're muscular already. Your arms and shoulders are beautiful." She did enjoy running her hands over them.

"I've lost too much weight."

It was true. All those work-outs, the constant training...Tami liked a slightly stockier Eric. But she wasn't going to tell him that. "Well I think you look fantastic either way."

He smiled. "Did you get a haircut? It looks good."

She laughed. "Yeah. Two weeks ago. So no points for finally noticing." She'd gone to the Waco Community salon, which was run by cosmetology students, who would cut and style your hair for next to nothing, as an exercise in training, but you did risk being butchered. She'd thought her girl had done well, though.

"Well, babe, you're so blindingly beautiful all the time that it's hard for me to notice the details."

"One point." She sat back from the table as the waiter took their salad plates.

Eric was quiet for awhile. He turned his dinner fork over on the table. Looking at it, he asked, "When's your, uh...monthly visitor due again?"

The truth was, she thought her period should have started already, but her cycle had always been a bit erratic. She wanted to wait another week to assume anything. "If it hasn't started by the end of next week, it's time to consider...that I might be..." She trailed off.

He nodded.

Since he'd broached the topic they'd been avoiding, she thought she might as well dive in. "What if it doesn't start?"

"I'm sure it will, Tami. Stumpy told me he's had a condom break or slip at least four times, and he's never gotten a girl pregnant."

"You _told_ him?"

" _No._ I just asked if it had ever happened to him."

They grew silent when the waiter brought their meals.

"I'm worried," she confessed.

"Don't worry. Enjoy tonight. It's your birthday. You're going to Baylor. You're going to get a four year degree from a top tier college, just like you wanted." He raised his water glass. "Tonight we celebrate. To you, Tami."

She raised her glass and clinked his, but all the while she wondered how worried he was and wished he would talk about it.

 **[Saturday, November 18, 1989]**

"Why has Eric been so distracted these past two games?" Mr. Taylor asked, shaking his head. "That receiver was wide open! How could he not see that?"

"I don't know," she lied. "He's trying his best."

"He is _not_ trying his best," Mr. Taylor muttered. His wife had not joined him for today's game at the home stadium in Waco. She was working a nursing shift at the hospital. "His best is far better than _that_."

The game was tight with little successful action. The Bears lost in the end, having scored no touchdowns to Rice's one.

 **[Thursday, November 23, 1989]**

Eric and Tami went to separate Thanksgivings, Eric at his father's house with the new Mrs. Taylor (not quite as new anymore; they'd been married five months now) and his aunt and uncle, and Tami at the parsonage with her family.

Eric had a game in Austin on Saturday, and he would be leaving Friday evening. Tami would drive separately to Austin early Saturday morning to watch him play. As that was Joey and Sarah's school, they planned to visit their old friends Saturday night.

Tami could no longer pretend that her period wasn't obviously late. Even accounting for the erratic nature of her cycle, it had to have started by now. When Shelley and Mom and Pastor John were in the living room after Thanksgiving dinner, she called Eric from the kitchen phone and told him she was late.

She should have waited, she knew, until after his game. She shouldn't have burdened him with this worry right now, but she simply couldn't bear the burden herself. She was in a turmoil of uncertainty and fear.

"You…uh…sure?" Eric asked.

"Pretty sure," she said. "I've waited days past when I think it should have started." She felt a little faint, like at the start of stomach virus.

"How do we proceed?" he asked.

" _Proceed_? Is your dad there in the kitchen?"

"Yes."

"Oh." She thought he'd be in the living room watching football by now.

"If you're not feeling well," Eric said, "maybe you should go see the doctor?"

He sounded so weird, choosing his words carefully, with his father nearby. He sounded distant, almost cold. What was he feeling? Was his gut cinched with anxiety, like hers? Was his head light with fear?

"They came out with these new one-step pregnancy tests recently," she said. "They sell them in the pharmacy. You pee on it, and if a blue stripe shows up, that means you're pregnant."

"That sounds like a good purchase."

"CVS opens at 8 AM tomorrow. I could stop by and get one."

"Want to meet for breakfast tomorrow morning? Say, 8:30? We could eat together, so you won't have to eat alone."

"We can't do it at the parsonage," Tami said. "My mom and Pastor John are both off. They'll be home. Can we meet at your house?"

"Yes."

"Your dad and Karen will both be at work?"

"Yes. They both have to be at work."

"Your aunt and uncle will be gone too?" Tami asked.

"They're heading back to Oklahoma at 7 AM tomorrow."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then. At 8:30."

"Tami, I love you," he said suddenly and rapidly, in a mingled tone of fear and reassurance.

"I love you, too."

 **[Friday, November 24]**

When Tami came out of the hall bathroom with the pregnancy test stick resting in the plastic container it had come in, Eric was leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, looking pale. They'd hardly said a word to each other when she showed up at the kitchen door. She had no idea what he was thinking or feeling.

"How long does it take to develop?" he asked.

"A few minutes," she said.

"And it's blue if you're pregnant?"

"Yeah. A line."

"And if you're not, it's just nothing? Nothing shows up?"

"Yeah."

He took in a shaky breath.

She leaned back against the wall opposite him.

There was a minute or more of silence.

"How accurate is it?" he asked.

"False positives are extremely rare. False negatives are more common. If I get a negative, I should probably take a second one, just to make sure."

"Did you buy a second one?"

"No. They're expensive. I'll get another one in a week and try again if it's negative."

"I'll pay for it."

There was dead silence for the next two minutes. She looked down at the stick in its container. Nothing yet. "What if it _is_ blue?"

"Let's worry about that if it is."

"I'm already worried," she said. There was only two feet of space between them in this hall, but they weren't touching. He wasn't holding her or comforting her. She wished he would, but he looked so tense, it might feel like stiff cardboard was enveloping her.

She looked at the stick again and saw it, the faintest hint of a line, darkening, growing. Eric followed her eyes. He saw it too.

There was a creak in the hallway, and they both looked up. Mr. Taylor was standing there. "I forgot my measuring - " He stopped mid-sentence. He looked at the stick. He looked at Tami. He looked at Eric. "Is that a pregnancy test?"

Neither of them answered.

"It's blue," Mr. Taylor said. "It's positive."

How did he know about home pregnancy tests? Tami wondered. They didn't have these one-step tests when Eric was born.

"Maybe it's a false positive," Eric said.

"Chances are slim," Mr. Taylor replied, sounding more stern than Tami had ever heard him sound. "You have a game tomorrow, Eric. The last game of the season. The last chance to make a good impression your sophomore year." He was gritting his back teeth together as he spoke. "Then you only have two more seasons left until the draft. You're on your way to realizing your dream. Do you have _any_ idea how distracting a baby can be?" A line flickered in his jaw. "Goddamn it, Eric!" He slammed his fist against the hallway wall. The material gave beneath his hand, the drywall crumbling in a little. "How many times have I told you that you have to be careful? How many times have I – Goddamn it!" Mr. Taylor turned on his heels and paced down the hall. The house shuddered when he slammed the kitchen door.

Tami burst into tears.


	14. November 24: Decisions

**[Friday, November 24 con't]**

Eric patched the hole in the wall silently. Tami had buried the stick in the trash and washed her hands and now simply watched him work, filling and smoothing and sanding.

"Eric," she said when he went over the area for the third time, "we have to talk about this."

He closed his eyes. "I know."

He left the spackle and other items in the hall and walked toward the kitchen. She followed. He took two glasses down from the cabinet and filled them with sweet tea, as if they needed drinks for this. And maybe they did. Something to look at besides each other.

They sat at the kitchen table across from one another. He looked into the light brown sea of his tea. She gripped her own glass with one hand.

"So…I guess we have three options," Tami said. "Abortion, adoption, or we keep it."

He took a sip of his tea and swallowed, hard, as if he couldn't work it down.

"I've had a religious upbringing," she told him. "I don't know how much of it I believe myself, but I really don't…I think if I had an abortion, I'd feel really guilty. Me, personally, I just don't know if I could do it."

"A'ight."

"The next option is…maybe I take a semester off from school. I have it and give it up for adoption when it's born. And then we go on with our lives."

"Just like that?" Eric pulled his tea a little closer. "Just like my mom did. Just….went on with her life. Like it never happened."

"You don't want to do that, do you?"

"No."

"I'm not ready to be a mother," Tami said. "I thought I'd be thirty."

"I did exactly what my father told me never to do," Eric said.

Silence descended. Eric drained his entire glass of tea, sip by sip.

"Eric, I need you to talk to me," Tami said. "I need you to say something."

He stood. He paced a bit. He came back and stood across from her.

"Here's what I think we should do," he said. "We should get married this December, during winter break. A simple wedding at the courthouse. We don't have the time or money for much else."

"Eric - "

"- We may need a rush license. I don't know how that works. But we can get it done. You go ahead and transfer to Baylor, like you were planning to do anyway."

"But - "

"Listen, Tami, **_if_** I'm married, I can get married family housing on my scholarship for the spring semester. They have these apartments, just off campus, for married students and families with kids and all that. We won't have any rent or utilities. My scholarship will cover it. You can go to Baylor for the spring semester. The baby will be born in…" He was calculating… "July? Maybe you can take the baby to classes with you in the fall."

"Eric, I don't want to get married just because I'm pregnant."

"I love you."

"I know, but I don't want to rush into marriage."

"What choice do we have? You don't want to have this baby while we're _not_ married, do you? And it'll be a lot cheaper if we can live together in family housing."

"I don't have any health care. What do we do about that?"

"I get student health coverage through my scholarship. I don't know if they'll pay for a family plan, but I can probably add you and pay the difference. Since you'll be a student too, it should be cheap. We'll figure it out."

She sighed. "I really don't want you to marry me because of this."

"Tami, I love you. We'd probably have ended up married anyway when college was over."

"In _two and a half_ years."

"Yeah. So?"

"Well," she said, "now we'll never know if this is the only reason _why_ we got married."

"I _love_ you. It can never be the _only_ reason. What else can we do?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe I should take another test."

"We both know it's going to be positive. Tami, you're pregnant." He took in a deep breath. "I don't know what else we're supposed to do. Nothing else feels right."

"Does marrying me feel right?" she asked. "What if I have a miscarriage? You'll be stuck with me for no reason."

"No reason other than that I love you."

The phone rang. Eric went to pick it up. When he got off, he told Tami. "That was my dad calling from the carpet store. He wants us to meet him for lunch, at this diner near the store."

"Is he going to break the table in half?" Tami shook her head. "I've never seen that side of your father before."

"I have. A few times."

"Has he ever hit you?" she asked.

"God, no. Never. Sometimes guys hit inanimate objects when they get mad. That's all."

"My father never did anything like that. I hope you never do." She meant it when she said it, but over the years, she'd see him kick over a chair, pound a phone against the end table, and lead their daughter down the hall by her neck, and though she wouldn't like it, she'd be a bit more understanding.

"Listen," Eric said, "we better have something to tell him when we go to this lunch. So are you going to marry me or not?"

She leaned her head against her hand on the table. "Such a romantic proposal," she said.

"Tami, I'm not romantic. But you know I love you. You know I wanted to marry you eventually anyway." She didn't know that, not for sure, though she suspected it. "You know I'm faithful. You know I _try_ to do the right thing."

"I know. I know all that, Eric. I just don't want to be the right thing you try to do. I don't want to be your obligation."

He got down on one knee beside her chair. "Tami, listen. I've spent years being cheered on the field, having girls flirt with me left and right, earning football trophies, wearing this" – he pulled off the state championship ring the Tigers had won his junior year of high school and held it up, "but sometime, it all ends. Even if I _do_ make it to the NFL, I can't play forever. Average career length in the NFL is only about five years. Sooner or later, it's all gonna end. I want something solid when it does. _Someone_ solid." He took her hand. "I want _you_. Will you marry me?"

She smiled. She loved him so much, and she did think marriage made practical sense in these circumstances. She had just imagined a different proposal, at a different time, with a diamond ring. "Yes," she said. "I'll marry you."

He smiled and put the state ring on her finger. It instantly slid off. She caught it in her other hand. "I'll put it on a chain," she said.

"I'll get you a real engagement ring as soon as I can afford one."

"Let's wait. Get me one for our fifth anniversary" She smiled. "When you're in the NFL. Or coaching. Or teaching. When we have money."

He dropped to both knees now and leaned in and kissed her.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"So am I. But we've got each other."

 **[*]**

Mr. Taylor was already in the booth, a coffee cup in front of him, when they arrived. He'd chosen a quiet corner with no one else around. Tami and Eric slid in on the opposite side, and Eric grasped Tami's hand beneath the table.

"First of all," Mr. Taylor said, "I apologize for my reaction and my language. Both were completely unacceptable."

A waitress arrived and took Tami and Eric's drink orders.

"Second of all," Mr. Taylor said when she was gone, "y'all need to know this is not the end of the world."

"Really?" Tami asked. "Because you sure made it sound like the end of the world when you hit that wall."

Mr. Taylor sighed. "Eric has worked so very hard to reach his goals, and I've warned him so many times to be careful, that I just lost my temper. I shouldn't have. But I assure you, this is _not_ the end of the world."

"Dad," Eric said softly "it's just...sometimes you've also made it sound like it was the end of your world when you conceived me. The end of your dreams, anyway."

"If I made you feel that way, Eric, I'm sorry. I regret quitting the amateur league. I regret that I didn't do things in the right order. I regret that I didn't have it all – the wife, the son, and the career. But I've never regretted _you_. You're my son, and I love you. Everything I have done for the past twenty years, I've done with you in mind."

Eric's eyes were speaking, the way Mrs. Hernandez said men's eyes do. They were saying he loved his father and feared his disapproval, that he was overwhelmed, that he felt like a failure, and that he was terrified of what the future might hold.

"But it's not easy becoming a young father. You're nineteen."

"Almost twenty," Eric said. "Tami is twenty."

The waitress returned with Tami and Eric's drinks and took everyone's order. Tami wasn't at all hungry, but she ordered a salad anyway.

"I was about your age when your mother had you," Mr. Taylor continued. "I could never have done it alone. For the first few years, I lived with my sister and shared expenses with her. If you two decide to keep this child, you won't be alone either. Karen and I will offer what support we can." He looked at Tami. "I'm sure your mother will as well."

Tami shook her head. "She's very religious. She's married to a _pastor_. She's going to be humiliated. She's going to…" Tami wanted to cry.

"My mother was very religious too," Mr. Taylor said. "She went to mass every single morning. I was terrified to tell her. But people can surprise you."

"Please don't tell my mother, Mr. Taylor. I will, eventually. But please don't tell her."

"It's not my place to tell her. You should tell her in person before you leave for Eric's game tomorrow." Tami had no intention of doing that. She wasn't ready to tell her yet. She'd wait until after the wedding. "Are you going to the game?"

"Of course," Tami said.

"So am I." Mr. Taylor shook his head. "What timing. Try to keep your head in the game anyway, son."

"I will," Eric promised him.

The waitress returned with their food. Tami poked around hers, while Mr. Taylor dug into his. Eric ate, but in a lackluster manner.

"Do you have a plan?" Mr. Taylor asked.

"We're keeping the baby," Eric said. "We're getting married, over winter break."

"That's probably for the best. Do you have a financial plan?"

"Tami is transferring to Baylor for the spring," Eric answered. "I'll apply for married student housing. They gave her a partial scholarship. She has enough savings to pay for next semester and still have a little left over. I have a little savings, three hundred dollars. I've got that part-time job lined up at the bookstore for spring and summer. She'll keep waitressing I guess."

"That's not going to be a comfortable job when she's six month's pregnant," Mr. Taylor said.

"I'll apply for a work study office job at Baylor instead," Tam instead. "I won't make as much, but it'll be better when I'm pregnant."

"And when the baby comes?" Mr. Taylor asked.

Eric looked at Tami.

"I guess we'll have to find childcare," Tami said.

"And pay for it how?" Mr. Taylor asked. "Along with your fall tuition and health care expense and baby related expenses?"

Tami looked at Eric.

"We haven't thought that far," he admitted.

"I have savings," Mr. Taylor told them. "I never had to help Eric with college. So I'll give y'all a wedding gift of $4,000." Tami felt like Mr. Taylor was throwing them a life raft, only to instantly poke a hole in it: "It won't last long. You'll burn through that more quickly than you imagine. Eric won't be able to work during the fall. He'll have to concentrate on football. Tami, you should consider not finishing college until Eric is in the NFL."

"Dad, there's no guarantee I'm going to make it to – "

"- I believe you can, Eric," his father told him. "But if you don't, it's probably even more important that Tami delay college. You two won't be able to afford her tuition after a semester. And if you don't make it to the NFL, and she takes on loans, it may be a long time before you can dig yourself out from under them. And all the things she'll be juggling – the baby, and work….to have school on top of that?" Mr. Taylor shook his head.

Tami didn't want to wait two years to finish college. She was on an academic roll. She feared she'd forget what she learned, lose the drive, get stuck in a rut. Besides, when Eric graduated, wouldn't they have to move for his job, whether the NFL or something else? But for now, she just let Mr. Taylor have his say.

"I assume it will be a cheap wedding," Mr. Taylor said. "Family, a few friends maybe, rings, but no fanfare?"

Eric looked at Tami.

"Yes," she said. "Maybe at the courthouse."

"You won't want your stepfather to perform the ceremony in his church?"

"I don't know if he'd…given the circumstances…I…." Tami was mortified at the thought of Pastor John finding out she was pregnant. "I suppose I don't have to tell him why I'm getting married," she said.

"Less than a month's notice before a wedding?" Mr. Taylor asked. "No, you won't _have_ to tell him."

They ate their food in silence. Eventually, Eric excused himself for the restroom. Tami plead with him with her eyes not to go, but either he didn't notice or he _really_ had to pee.

When he was gone, she examined her mostly untouched salad. She could feel Mr. Taylor examining her.

Tami put her fork down. Without looking at him, she said, "I hope you don't feel like I've ruined your son's life by getting myself pregnant."

"You didn't _get yourself_ pregnant," he said. "And you _are_ my son's life now."


	15. November 25: Comeback

**[Saturday, November 25]**

Tami felt extremely awkward when Mr. Taylor sat down beside her in the seats reserved for them at the game against UT-Austin. His wife wasn't with him today. It seemed she rarely attended the games. Tami supposed Karen typically worked Saturdays. Mr. Taylor had no doubt told his wife about her pregnancy. The woman was to be a grandmother, after all, and one that would not seem an outsider to their child. It was strange to consider that Karen Jones and Pastor John would simply be Grandma and Grandpa to the young Taylor that was to come, and not some near strangers grafted into the family, as they were to Eric and Tami. It was strange, too, to think that Mr. Taylor would soon be her father-in-law. Would he expect her to call him _Dad_?

Tami knew that their old high school friends Joey and Sarah were at this game also, on the home side of the stadium instead of the visitors. They had made plans to get together at Joey and Sarah's apartment tonight, for a quiet party of friends, instead of joining in the raucous partying on fraternity row. Now that Tami was pregnant, she wouldn't be drinking anyway. She hadn't had a drink since the condom broke, just in case, though she had badly wanted one.

Tami thought either she or Mr. Taylor needed to speak to break the weighty silence, but neither did. It seemed like an eternity until the kick off. She was afraid Eric would be distracted and play another poor game. If he did, the coach might hand the reins over to his second string as he had last time. If the coach kept doing that, Eric would soon _be_ the second string once again.

But Eric was actually less distracted than he had been during the past two games. Maybe it was because the weight of _not knowing_ had been lifted. Maybe it was because they had made a decision to move forward together. Maybe it was because he had a new sense of ambition as an expectant father. Whatever it was, Eric was tearing up the field.

"That's my boy!" Mr. Taylor shouted more than once, heady with pride.

In the course of the game, Eric scored an unexpected rushing touchdown and also threw two impressively long touchdown passes. The crowd, Tami and Mr. Taylor along with them, were wild with cheering.

The Bears slaughtered UT-Austin, ending this last game of the season with a massive lead.

"He's going out with a bang," Tami said proudly.

"Goddamn right he is!" Mr. Taylor agreed. And then flushed and muttered, "Pardon my language."

When the crowd was beginning to disperse, and Tami began to leave, Mr. Taylor put a staying hand on her hand. She turned to him.

"Eric has dreams," he told her.

So did she.

"He has a real chance of making it to the NFL," Mr. Taylor continued. "I hope you'll support him in that goal."

"I intend to."

"I never had the support of a wife. If I had, I might have realized my dreams."

"You've done well for yourself, Mr. Taylor. You have a decent job, and your own handyman business on top of that, a fine son, and now, also, a beautiful wife." He wasn't even quite forty yet. He could still realize his dreams, Tami thought, or, at least _different_ dreams.

He smiled. "I know. But I want even more for my son than I've realized for myself. And if you're determined to support him, which I hope you are, well..." He sighed. "For awhile that may require you to bear more of the brunt of the housekeeping and the parenting and even the income earning than seems fair. It may be rough at times. It may also require you to delay your education. But, if he makes it, all that effort will pay off for you as well."

Tami didn't tell him she didn't _want_ to delay college. This was a discussion to have with Eric, not his father. "Your son did great out there," she said. "Let's go congratulate him."

 **[*]**

"Holllllly shit!" Sarah said and took a sip from her beer bottle. She was sitting on the couch next to Tami. Both had their feet up on the coffee table. Eric and Joey were in the two arm chairs across from each other, both also drinking beer. "Well your life is about to change big time."

"Congratulations?" Joey said.

"Don't say it like a question, man!" Eric had been hitting the beer pretty hard this evening. He stood up and spread his arms wide. He was swaying a little. "I'm about to marry the woman of my dreams and become a dad. Congratulate me like you mean it, Joey!"

Joey laughed. He stood up, came over, bear hugged Eric, and lifted him off the ground. When he'd set him back on his feet, Eric said, "I see you can still bench press half your weight, anyway."

"Screw you." Joey sat back down. Eric went to the fridge for more beer.

"That was supposed to last us a week!" Sarah shouted after him.

"Consider this an engagement party," Eric said when he returned. "And this is your gift to us."

"What does Tami get?" Sarah asked. "She can't drink anything. And are you even going to get her an engagement ring?"

"That's not on our list of priorities right now," Tami said.

"When I'm in the NFL, I'll get her a 22-carat diamond ring," Eric said, and took another sip of beer.

"Man," Joey said, "don't be one of these idiot athletes who squanders it all and leaves the NFL broke. You know like over half of them leave broke, even though they have financial planners assigned to them."

"I've gotten that lecture from my father 632 times, Joey. I don't think I need it from you." Eric tapped his head. "I'll be smart. I'll bank half my salary immediately. We can live for years after I leave the NFL."

Tami smiled. She felt a small shiver of excitement to think that she might actually have a glamorous life one day. She wasn't banking on it, of course. It felt, at this point, that Eric's odds of making the NFL were about 25%, but it was fun to fantasize. She wanted a house with a pool, and a huge, walk-in closet, and a car that had just rolled off the lot that year. She wanted to stop living paycheck to paycheck, to be able to go out to eat twice a week, to hire someone to do the cleaning for her.

Eric was looking at her with a sloppy grin. "We're gonna be a'ight, you know," he said. "You're so pretty, babe. You look so damn good right now."

"Do y'all want to go to bed now?" Joey asked. "I mean, you can if you want, but we haven't seen you in like…a long time." Joey had offered to sleep on the couch and give Tami and Eric his room.

"No, we don't want to go to bed yet," Tami said.

"So, Sarah," Eric said, lacking inhibition and being more gregarious than usual in his buzzed state, "You dating anyone?"

"Yeah," she said. "As a matter of fact, I am. Joey and I are dating again."

"Really?" Tami asked. They wrote letters to each other, but Sarah had not mentioned this development. "When did that happen?"

"When she got smarter," Joey said. "Which happened around about….November 12th I think."

Sarah smiled at him. "We're giving it another try," she said.

"We just have to break up and get back together once more after this," Joey insisted. "Because third time's a charm."

Sarah laughed.

"So you're _not_ sleeping on the couch tonight," Eric said to Joey.

"We _just_ started dating, man. And I'm a _gentleman_."

Eric chuckled.

"Who wants to play Pictionary?" Sarah asked.

"I do!" Tami chimed.

Eric and Joey both shook their heads.

"We're playing Pictionary, boys," Sarah insisted. "Unless you prefer Trivial Pursuit."

"How about strip poker?" Joey asked.

Eric pointed a beer bottle at him. "You will never see my fiancé naked. Never."

Tami smiled. It gave her a strange, warm feeling to hear Eric call her that.

There was a lot of laughter that night, and Joey and Sarah agreed to witness their wedding, which they had tonight decided would be toward the start of winter break. The courthouse would still be open, and that would leave enough time to apply for married student housing.

As Tami led Eric off to bed at 1 AM, Joey said, "Just put the sheets straight in the washer in the morning."

Tami did, though they had done nothing to soil them. Eric had fallen almost immediately asleep, his arm draped across her waist, when his head hit the pillow. She'd lain awake for another hour, staring at the ceiling, alternately worrying and daydreaming about the future, and praying on her own for the first time in years.

 **[Wednesday, November 29]**

This semester, Tami had switched her waitressing schedule to evenings, Sundays through Fridays. She'd have to get a less active job soon, but she felt fine for now.

When she came out of the place a quarter past 10, Eric startled her. He took her hand, walked her to her car, and looked at her seriously. "My dad called me this evening," he said. "You haven't told your mother yet?"

"Oh God. Did _he_?"

"Well, she called him over to do some repairs at the parsonage. And he _assumed_ you'd told her by now. So he mentioned that he and Karen were taking the whole day off for the wedding, and that my aunt might be coming down for it. And your Mom clearly had no idea what he was talking about."

"Oh no."

"Tami, how could you not have told her yet?"

"She'll guess I'm pregnant. And I don't want to hear it from her! You don't understand. The lectures Shelley and I got about being good girls, about virtue and chastity, and…." She shook her head. "Did your dad _tell_ her I was _pregnant_?"

"No. But she asked what the rush was, and why you hadn't told her, and Pastor John was there, clearing his throat, so….my dad thinks _he_ guessed. And I suppose Pastor John might have opened your mom's eyes to the possibility by now. You need to talk to your mother, Tami."


	16. November 30: The Phone Call

**[Thursday, November 30, 1989]**

Tami had seen the message on the refrigerator when she got home last night, but this morning when she opened the door to grab the milk, she ignored it once again:

 _Your Mom called. Says call her back ASAP!_

She kept busy with classes and her evening shift at Applebee's, but when she stepped through the apartment door at 10:30 PM, the phone rang again. Gretchen happened to be in the kitchen, wiping down the countertops, and so she answered it.

Tami had just kicked off her shoes when Gretchen said, "It's your stepfather."

"My _stepfather_?" Tami didn't think of Pastor John that way. He was her mother's husband. Was that how he'd introduced himself? Reluctantly, she took the phone from Gretchen, who eyed her with a raised eyebrow before disappearing from the kitchen. "Hello?"

"Tami, your mother is beside herself." Pastor John had such a strong, clear voice for such a generally quiet person. She supposed you had to when your job entailed preaching. "She's very upset you didn't tell her you were engaged. And now you haven't returned her calls. Why?"

"Because I'm pregnant," Tami said. There, just have it out. See what he said to _that_ little bit of directness.

"I assumed." He didn't sound particularly upset. He sounded calm. Perhaps resigned.

"That doesn't offend you?" she asked.

" _Offend_ me? It's no offense against _me_ , I'm sure. But you _have_ hurt your mother's feelings by telling Mr. Taylor and not telling her."

"That's all? That's the only reason she's upset?" Tami asked incredulously. "Really?"

"Well, naturally she's also upset that you chose to fornicate."

Tami sighed. Such a word choice. _Fornicate._ Was that Pastor John's word choice or her mother's? Probably both, thought it sounded academic coming from Pastor John's lips.

"I didn't _tell_ Mr. Taylor. He…found out."

"Well, tell your mother that." He paused. "Tami, Eric's father said some nonsense about you planning to get married at the courthouse. Why not have the wedding at First Baptist, even if you only have time to throw together a small one? It's your home church after all. I'll marry you two."

"You will? Even though I'm a _fornicator_?" Tami was being downright testy now. Could she blame it on pregnancy hormones this early? The truth was, she was already growing defensive in preparation for the onslaught from her mother.

"By having this child, you and Eric are doing something that takes a lot of courage, especially at your age. A lot of young women would have chosen an easier way out. And a different young man might have pressured you to choose it. Marriage is not something to be entered into lightly. I understand your urgency, but you don't have to entirely dispense with the solemnity. You don't have to elope before some government bureaucrat when you can get married before your family and friends and God. I know you don't have time to plan much, and that you can't afford a large wedding, but you can use the chapel."

First Baptist had a historic chapel that dated to the late 1800s that was used for small prayer meetings and a larger sanctuary that was used for regular worship. She'd been in the chapel a few times. It was small and quaint and though old and little worn, beautiful in its way, with traditional stained glass and the earthy smell of wood.

"I've got some church ladies I can usually get to help me with anything," Pastor John continued. "I'm sure they'll help you whip together a cake and punch reception in the fellowship hall to follow, manage the set up, and get flowers arranged in the chapel for you so you don't have to pay a florist. No one has to know the reason for the rush. We can put the word out that for financial reasons you needed to share housing in the spring."

"Well, technically, that's true."

"Will you consider marrying in the church? I think it would help to calm your mother."

The truth was, Tami wasn't excited about a courthouse wedding. She was afraid it would feel more like having a sentence passed than taking a beautiful and sacred vow, but she hadn't wanted to try to arrange a church wedding, not given the circumstances.

"I know the county clerk," Pastor John continued. "I'll help you get your license fast, and I can sign it, of course."

"Okay. That sounds good. Thank you."Tami was reeling a bit from the way the adults in their lives seemed to be somewhat taking over, with advice and ideas – first Mr. Taylor, now Pastor John. She was simultaneously offended and relieved. She felt underwater, and these lifelines that the grown-ups kept throwing were something solid to cling to.

At the same time, she wondered if she should be making more of her own decisions here, and if the adults weren't in just a little bit of a hurry to cover up the embarrassment of her pregnancy, as if this was the 18th century instead of the 20th. Yet she had to admit, she didn't want to be visibly pregnant and unwed herself. She'd known those girls in high school, the whispers that had haunted them, the lives they'd ended up leading as single mothers, stuck in dead end jobs, feeding their children on food stamps, never quite getting ahead, no matter how hard they tried. They hadn't had families who could, or would, help, who would guide them with a wisdom gained through the years. A few had had boyfriends, but none had had committed husbands to love them and shoulder part of the work.

"Will you speak to your mother now?" Pastor John asked. "If I go get her?"

"I guess."

"Tami!" came her mother's scolding voice a moment later. "Good girls wait until they're married to have sex. I told you that!"

"Well I'm not a good girl, Mom. I'm a horrible girl, aren't I?"

"Tami, I raised you better than this."

Tami heard a murmuring in the background, Pastor John saying something indecipherable.

"Tami," her mom said with a heavy sigh, "I'm mad you didn't talk to me, and that you didn't follow your upbringing, but I'm glad you've decided to do the right thing. And Eric…well…except for getting you knocked up….he's a good boy, all and all. And last night John reminded me of Jesus and the woman at the well."

Great, so Tami was like the woman with five husbands who was shacking up with a man who wasn't her husband.

"And he reminded me of the woman taken in adultery."

Even better. Now she was comparable with an adulteress.

"Let he who has no sin cast the first stone and all that," Mom said. "And John also suggested maybe we could give you $2,500 as a wedding gift. To help with the baby when it comes."

"Wow." Tami hadn't been expecting her mother to move from anger to resignation in the space of a few sentences, but she supposed her mother had worked through that process last night, with the help of Pastor John. Still, she'd had to get out a few cutting remarks.

Tami hadn't expected a gift either. Between Mr. Taylor's generosity and Pastor John's, they'd have a good nest egg. "Thank you. And, Mom…we didn't tell Mr. Taylor first. We were taking the pregnancy test at his house, and he forgot something, and walked in on us waiting on it. I would never have told him before I told you, if it were up to me."

"I don't really believe that, but thank you for saying so."

Tami shook her head. Well, she'd tried to throw out an olive branch, anyway.

"You're not going to quit college are you?" her mom asked.

"I don't want to. Mr. Taylor suggested that I should, at least until Eric is finished and is in the NFL or has some other job. He thinks we can't juggle it all."

"That's because he's a man."

Tami leaned against the kitchen wall. What did that mean, she wondered?

"Don't quit, Tami. Don't make that mistake. I never told you this, but I was enrolled in college when I met your father. I left after half a semester to follow him to Tyler for his job. I was so in love. It didn't make sense for me to go back once I was pregnant with you, and your dad already had a decent job, so I never did go back. If you quit now, you may _never_ go back. And who knows what your future might hold if you had a degree. You can be so much more than I ever was. Don't quit."

This plea surprised Tami. During her teenage years, her mother had not emphasized academics so much as moral behavior.

"I wish I'd encouraged you more when it came to school," Mom said, almost as if reading her thoughts. "I've been trying with Shelley, and maybe that was a mistake. Now she has a new way to rebel against me. Her grades are slipping."

"I know. I tried to talk to her about it. And I don't plan to quit, Mom. We'll find a way for me to stay in school."

"Good. I'll come down after the baby is born, for a few days, to help. You'll have a second room in family housing? For the baby? Mr. Taylor said Eric's scholarship would cover it."

"Yeah, we looked at the apartments the other day. They have two bedrooms. It's bigger than the place I'm in now."

"Well, I'll have time to come down once a week to babysit, if you and Eric need to get out together, marriage build and all that. God knows your dad and I needed that when you two were young. I've got plenty of time now. I quit my job."

"You did?"

"John likes me at home."

"You shouldn't let him make you – "

"- Tami, _I_ like me at home. I'm tired. I've worked fifty hours a week for peanuts for years at a job I hate. And now I can do more volunteer work at the church. I can do what I want. I'm leading the Women's Ministry now."

"You're happy?"

"Yes, Tami. Happier than I've been in a long time."

"Good. I love you, Mom." Those were not words they said often enough to one another.

"I love you, too, Tami. I wish your daddy could have lived to give you away." She sniffled. Tami hoped Pastor John wasn't there to hear that. Then again, he'd had a long, prior marriage himself. Maybe they talked about their late spouses to each other. "I care about John," Mom said. "I really do. But sometimes I still miss your father something awful."

"So do I."

"I think he would have approved of Eric, after he smacked him in the back of the head for knocking you up."

Tami laughed through her pooling tears.

"Shelley wants to talk to you."

Tami brushed her hand quickly across her face.

"When were you going to tell me you were getting married?" Shelley asked.

"Soon," Tami said. "I suppose Mom told you I'm knocked up."

"Uh…no…she didn't. Really?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to be an aunt!"

Tami pulled the phone away from her ear, Shelley had shouted so loudly.

"I'm totally going to be the cool aunt!" Shelley continued. "The coolest aunt ever. But how did you get pregnant? Did you plan it?"

"No, we didn't _plan_ to get me pregnant before we were married, our second year of college! The condom broke."

"Oh." She paused. Mom must be leaving the kitchen. Then she whispered, "Good thing I went on the pill last month."

"Shelley…are you…"

Her voice was a normal volume again. "I'm going to be 17 in a few months, Tami. I'm not a baby anymore."

"I thought you broke up with Danny."

"I'm back with Kash."

"The Pentecostal guy? Why do you need to go on the pill then? I thought he didn't believe in sex before marriage."

"He's been revising his beliefs. He told me the word they translate fornication in the Bible really just means incest in the Greek."

"Uh-huh. Well, be careful Shelley. Just because you did it with Danny doesn't mean you have to do it with him. Make sure he respects you."

"He respects the hell out of me."

"How are your grades so far this year?"

"Not as good as last year, but I'm passing."

"Passing as in…."

"C- passing," Shelley said.

That's what Tami was afraid of. "Oh, Shell. You were on a great track."

"It's okay. I'll pull them up next semester."

After a bit more conversation, Tami told her good night.

She walked into the living room, where Gretchen was staring at her intently. "You're pregnant?" she asked. "Is that why you're getting married?"

"You overheard all that?" Tami slumped down onto the couch beside her.

"It's a small apartment."

"It's not the only reason," Tami insisted.

"I know," Gretchen said, "that boy is head over heels for you. Any cynical asshole could see it." She smirked. "Even me."


	17. December 20: The Wedding

**[December 20, 1989]**

Tami wore a simple but attractive white dress, and Eric donned a black suit for their hobbled-together wedding. A few elegant and colorful flowers adorned the altar, courtesy of the Lady's Altar Guild, and Tami carried a tasteful bouquet as she walked down the burgundy carpeted aisle, between the thinly populated wooden pews of the historic chapel, to her groom.

The congregation was small, with a few churchgoers who came to every wedding and funeral, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, Tami's mother and sister, Eric's aunt and uncle, and a handful of friends. It struck Tami how very small, yet how surprisingly supportive, both of their extended families were.

Eric and Tami repeated the words they were spoon fed by Pastor John. Tami even said, "love, honor, and _obey_ ," though she didn't like the _obey_ part, but she'd never had the courage to tell Pastor John she wanted that part of the vows altered.

Eric looked a little pale to her, and she could see a few beads of sweat on his brow. His suit was no doubt heavy; it was a flukish, 70 degree December Texas day, and the chapel had no fans or air conditioning – only the large, front, wooden doors remained propped open – but she didn't think that was what made him sweat. He looked happy and nervous, terrified and proud all at once, and she wanted nothing more than to escape the ceremony and be alone with him, to hold and be held by him, to feel the comfort of his arms in some private place.

Pastor John kept the wedding sermon short, much shorter than his assistant had when he and Mom had married. Eric and Tami exchanged simple gold wedding bands.

The cake and punch reception that followed in the fellowship hall only lasted a little over an hour, and there was no dancing, not at First Baptist church. Nor was there alcohol, but they could not have afforded it anyway. Pastor John and Mr. Taylor offered thoughtful toasts with sparkling apple cider.

Pastor John recalled the Corinthians passage on love, emphasizing the line "love keeps no record of wrongs." He told them, "Never keep score. You aren't in competition. You're a team. You're young and in love now, but the days are coming when you'll need more tolerance and compassion and forgiveness for one another than you can at this moment imagine."

Mr. Taylor admitted, "I'm in no position to give marriage advice. I haven't been married long myself." He smiled at Karen before returning his attention to the couple that stood beside him, flutes in hand. "But I've tried to raise my son to be an honorable man, and I hope he proves that for you, Tami." He raised his glass to her. "Early on, when Eric started dating you, you struck me as a young lady who is loyal and supportive and who puts her family first."

 _I did?_ Tami wondered as she stood with her flute in one hand and her arm around Eric's waist.

Mr. Taylor continued his toast: "Eric's lucky to have your support, to have someone to lean on, and he may lean hard. I hope you'll let him. That's a gift not every man receives."

Throughout the reception, Joey hit the punch and cake hard, while Sarah made the rounds among the few other high school friends who were there. Stumpy and Gretchen hovered together in a corner, offering each other commentary on the oddness and simplicity of the wedding, no doubt. Stumpy looked surprisingly handsome in a suit and tie ("He cleans up nice," Gretchen told Tami). Gretchen herself had opted for a long sleeve dress that hid her tattoos. She looked, Stumpy said, "shockingly conventional. Almost glamorous," for which he was rewarded by Gretchen with a light smack on his cheek, which only caused him to grin and wink.

As Tami left, beneath a small crowd of blowing bubbles instead of rice, she performed the traditional bouquet toss. She lobbed the flowers in the general direction where Sarah and Gretchen and Shelley stood. No girl reached out for it. In fact, all three stepped back, and the bouquet fell lifelessly to the concrete sidewalk.

As Mom tsked, Pastor John forced his smirk into a frown. Shelley snorted. Mr. Taylor chuckled, and Mrs. Karen Taylor said, "I felt that way just a few years ago, but things can change." She slipped her arm around her husband's waist, and he put an arm around her shoulders.

"Two new Mrs. Taylors in the space of a year," Mr. Taylor said. "Whoever would have predicted such a thing?"

 **[*]**

The honeymoon would consist of three nights at a beach resort in Galveston, courtesy of a gift certificate provided as a wedding present by Eric's aunt and uncle. The weather was delightful when they arrived, in the high 60s, and sunny.

Eric called her "his bride" that night when he made love to her in the queen-sized bed, the window slightly open, the curtain billowing in the winter breeze, and the scents of the gulf tickling their noses. At least they didn't need condoms for the time being.

"You feel so good," Eric whispered while he moved inside her.

She moaned softly. He was being so much more tender than usual. She didn't know if it was because it was their wedding night, or because she was pregnant, but she needed that tenderness tonight, to ease away her fears for the future.

Afterwards, he lay with his hand on her bare stomach. "How big is it now?" he asked.

She held her fingers less than an inch apart.

"That's tiny," he said, and looked down at her stomach. She wasn't showing yet, but much to her dismay she had gained five pounds already.

"Well there's other stuff in there, too. Didn't you take biology in high school?"

"Yeah." He leaned down and kissed her stomach. "But I forget the details."

"I gave you that book to read," she said.

"I'm going to read it," he promised. "Tomorrow. On the beach."

Maybe he shouldn't read it. It was scary. It told you all the things that could go wrong. For instance, she was worried she hadn't had any morning sickness yet, because the book had said morning sickness was actually a good sign. She sure needed to pee more often, though, so she supposed she was ahead of schedule for that. And the cravings…red meat. She felt like a lion in the jungle some nights.

"It's heart should be beating by now," she said.

"Really? Already?" he asked, wide-eyed.

She smiled. "Yeah."

"That must be a _tiny_ heart."

"Well, if it's anything like yours," she said, "I think it must be a very big heart." She kissed him.

He settled his head next to hers. "I love you," he said. "It's gonna be a'ight. Everything's gonna be a'ight."

She didn't know if he was reassuring her or himself.


	18. December 21: Honeymoon

**[December 21, 1989]**

They ordered breakfast delivered to the room the next morning, because their gift certificate from Eric's aunt included it.

"Our families are pretty generous," Tami said.

"Yeah." He popped a strawberry into his mouth. They were sitting up in bed, each with a tray across their laps. "You haven't touched your pancakes."

"I'm feeling a little nauseous, actually." _Now_ it started. On her honeymoon. "You want them?"

"No, but I'll eat your bacon."

"Oh, I want the bacon. That might actually settle my stomach."

"When did you become such a carnivore?"

She patted her stomach underneath the free-standing tray. "The baby likes meat."

"That's my boy."

"Or girl," she reminded him.

He smiled at her and looked her over. "I think your breasts are getting bigger. How big do they get?"

She shook her head. "That would be your primary concern."

"I wouldn't exactly call it a _concern_ , Mrs. Taylor."

She winced a little. "That sounds so weird. Your stepmother is Mrs. Taylor."

"Stepmother. Now _that_ sounds weird. Do you call P.J. your stepfather?"

Tami giggled. "Stop calling Pastor John P.J."

"Why? It makes you laugh. I love it when you laugh." He leaned over and kissed her. Then he reached for her plate. "I might take those pancakes after all. Got to fatten up for the spring workouts."

She ended up throwing up after she ate the bacon. He stood outside the bathroom asking, "Are you a'ight? Can I help?"

"Go away!" she told him.

She came out later, showered, dressed, and feeling a lot better. He was in his swim trunks, looking out the window. She admired his broad shoulders and muscular calves. She was going to become as big as a ship, while he continued to train and stay in ideal shape. The cheerleaders and sorority girls would hover around the practices, admiring him, she was sure.

"Are you actually going to try to swim?" she asked. It was 68 outside at the moment. "The water must be 50 degrees!"

"That's not _that_ cold," he insisted. He smiled at her. "You feelin' better?"

"Much."

"You gonna put on your bikini? The…uh….little red one?"

"God no. I didn't bring that. I brought a one piece." One size up from her last swimsuit, too.

He frowned.

"It's not warm enough for that, Eric! I'm pregnant, and you get to see me naked later this afternoon anyway." If she wasn't throwing up, that was.

They went down to the nearly deserted beach. There were a few people lounging farther down, but December wasn't precisely beach season.

He ran into the water while she lounged on a beach chair. She watched him wade in up to his waist, and then dive under, when she was distracted by a waiter offering to take a drink order. She asked for a virgin strawberry daiquiri. The thought of it didn't nauseate her. "And a Corona for my husband," she said.

"Yes, ma'am."

Eric ran shivering out of the water and toward her. His teeth chattering, he grabbed his towel from the chair next to her and wrapped it around himself.

"I told you so," she said. "I'm surprised you lasted that long."

He sat down.

"I just called you my husband," she said, "to the waiter."

"Did it feel weird?"

"Yeah."

He smiled. "You'll get used to it. In ten or twenty years."

She read the _Joy Luck Club_ while he read the pregnancy book she'd given him. Sarah had recommended the Amy Tan book to her, which had just been released this year. It wasn't exactly a beach read, though, and she wished she'd brought something lighter.

"It says here," he said, "that you're not going to want to have sex with me much during the last trimester, and you need a six week break after the baby is born."

"Yep. That's what it says."

"That's like….eighteen weeks of no sex."

"Less sex in the third trimester. Not _no_ sex."

"Six weeks of no sex," he said, "after the baby is born. I've never done that."

She turned slowly to look at him. "Never?" He'd waited a year for his first girlfriend, and it wasn't as if he and Tami had had sex right away either. "Who were you having sex with those first six weeks we were dating?"

He smiled. "Well, but…I was getting _something_ from you."

"I promise I'll manage some hand jobs in the six weeks after the baby is born. And some blow jobs." Tami didn't have the slightest idea how tired she would be, or how unsexy she would feel, when she made this casual vow.

"They do have some suggestions for third trimester positions," he said. He turned the book toward her. She raised her sun glasses. He pointed to a sketch. "Says we _have_ to do it doggy style."

Tami lowered her sunglasses, slowly and cooly. "There are at least five other comfortable third trimester positions suggested. It's interesting you zeroed in on that one."

"I'm just saying, _the_ _book_ says you'll need to get down on your hands and knees before your husband."

She chuckled. "That's not my favorite position."

"How do _you_ know? You've never tried it. At least not with me. And so I assume not with anyone, seeing as I burst your cherry…"

She turned her head toward him again. Had he forgotten that she'd lost her virginity at 15, to a boy who had never acknowledged her again? Well, she didn't feel the need to remind him. Let Eric revise that history as he pleased. She wished _she_ could revise it. "Did you just skip straight to the sex section, sugar? That's _two-thirds_ of the way through the book."

He shrugged and turned a page. "I'm just making sure I know how to keep the customer satisfied, babe."

"I'm going to be so huge you're not even going to _want_ to have sex with me," she muttered.

He laughed. "I don't think there's any danger of that." He reached for his Corona and took a sip. "They didn't ask for ID?"

"Nope. We're man and wife now. I guess they suppose if you can handle a lifetime commitment, you can handle a beer."

 **[December 22, 1989]**

"Mornin'," Eric drawled.

Tami's eyelids fluttered open. He was looking down at her. His erection was pressed against her outer leg.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Sexy fun time," he said.

"I need to throw up." She slid from the bed. As she disappeared into the bathroom, she saw him throw himself on his back and sigh.

Tami felt better around noon. She'd showered and put on a soft, cotton, short-sleeved dress.

Eric had gone for a run along the beach and returned to the room dripping with sweat, breathing hard, like he often did after sex. He wiped his face with his t-shirt, which revealed the taut V of his muscles as they dipped down into his black athletic shorts. Tami was suddenly extremely horny. "Eric, would you do me a favor, sugar?"

"What's that?"

"Fuck me hard and fast. You don't even have to shower."

His eyes widened. She'd never said that word to him before, but she couldn't think of a better word to describe what she wanted from him right now.

He closed the distance between them in three quick strides and undressed her quickly. He swept her up hungrily, but then he lay her on the bed more gently.

Eric took her somewhat delicately, slower and more gently than she wanted, and she came softly. Her gentle whimper caused him to lose control, and he finished with a single stroke.

When his heavy breathing had subsided, she said, "Were you afraid of hurting the baby?"

"Yeah."

"You won't, Eric."

He kissed her cheek.

"You stink," she said, the glistening beads of sweat no longer a turn on now that she was satisfied. "You need a shower."

"Want to come wash my back?"

She did. They sported beneath the water, Eric taking his sweet time washing her body. She'd felt a little self-conscious about her weight gain when they climbed beneath the warm spray, but he spent so much time admiring her and telling her how sexy and beautiful she was, that she came out feeling more like a goddess.

They re-entered the bedroom, Eric with a white towel hooked around his waist, and Tami with one supported by her breasts. She kissed him and put a hand on the front of his towel. "Happy Birthday, sugar," she said as she stroked him through the material. "You want something special?"

He grinned. "I completely forgot it was my birthday." He was twenty today, a month behind her. "Guess our anniversary is going to eclipse that from here on out."

"Football season will eclipse both," she said. The regular season was over for Baylor, but if there was a bowl game in the future (Baylor hadn't played in one since 1986), or he was in the NFL, he'd be playing into the winter. She kissed his ear. "But today's you're birthday, and we have nowhere to be, so what would you like? Anything you want…."

"Anything?" he asked.

She smiled. "Whisper it in my ear."

He bent his head slightly and put his lips to her ear: "Right now? One of your fantastic blow jobs. Then, later, sex on the beach."

When it came to the second part of his request, they had to walk a long way before they found a spot she deemed to be safely secluded.

The light, cold gulf waves rolled in, breaking just below their toes, as Eric warmed her.


	19. December 30: Settling In

**A/N:** To the "guest" reviewer who asked about a couple of older stories that are no longer in the archives – I sometimes take down stories that are over a year old and have received no new comments for some time. I then salvage them for parts for original novels. I write original novels under the name of Molly Taggart (they are mostly available at Amazon). The novels do not include FNL characters or take place in the FNL world, but they often grow out of ideas, plots, or original characters I create in my fanfic. For instance, "Off Target" was inspired by my musings on a potential teenage Gracie; "Roots that Clutch" was originally born of a story involving an imagined brother of Eric; "Escaping Venice" grew out of my speculations on Tyra's future and also out of an invented son of Eric's, and so forth. So I take down my fanfiction when I am about to recycle it for a novel. If you were halfway through one of those stories when I took it down, please send me a private message and I will see if I can get you a copy from where you left off reading.

 **[December 30, 1989]**

Eric had made multiple trips between the financial aid office and the housing office, met with his scholarship committee, and had to furnish a certified copy of their wedding certificate and a an official doctor's report about Tami's pregnancy, but, in the end, one cool Saturday morning in late December, they were handed the keys to their new apartment. Tami and Eric now stood on the sidewalk before the dark brick building and looked up to the second of three floors, where their apartment resided. Half of the doors still had Christmas wreaths, and the third floor railing was wrapped with lights.

"Second floor is good," Eric said. "Only one flight of stairs, but not as easy to break into as a ground floor window. Safer."

Tami noticed all the bikes leaned against the metal railings of the balconies on the second and third floors, many of which were not even locked to the rail. "Looks pretty safe already."

They walked up to 29C and Eric handed her the key. "You want to do the honors?"

She did, but when she pushed the door open, he swept her up and carried her over the threshold. She laughed when he put her down on her feet on the light brown carpet. "I didn't think anyone did that anymore. But you do like traditions, don't you?"

"I'm a football player, babe. I love tradition. Tradition builds teams." He kissed her.

As he shut the door, she looked around the unfurnished apartment. The carpet was wall to wall, except in the narrow kitchen, which appeared to be some kind of cheap imitation of tile. The kitchen opened on to the living room, as it had in her and Gretchen's apartment, but here they at least had a breakfast nook (carpeted, just outside the kitchen), another foot of counter space, two extra cabinets, and a built-in microwave above the stove. The living room was a square foot larger than in her old apartment, and as she went on to explore she found the bathroom was also larger. They had a linen closet in the hall (glorious storage space!), the master bedroom was two feet wider than her old room had been (the futon would fit better, and now that she would be sharing it with Eric every night, she was glad it was a double), and the spare bedroom, soon to be the nursery, was about the size of her old bedroom.

"I love it!" she told him, and they made out for a while, standing there in the doorway of their soon to be nursery.

Eric had just begun to slip a hand beneath the tail of her Baylor sweatshirt when a double honk sounded from the parking lot below. He stopped. "I think my dad and Stumpy are here with the truck already."

Mr. Taylor had driven down from Tyler with some furniture from the old house. When he'd married Karen and they'd combined furniture, Mr. Taylor had put a few things in storage, and now Eric and Tami would have a free couch, arm chair, coffee table, TV stand, bookcase, and kitchen table and chairs.

Stumpy had volunteered to help with the move. While Eric and Tami were picking up the keys to the apartment, Stumpy had met Mr. Taylor over at Tami and Gretchen's old apartment to help load up Tami's things. Stumpy would schlep boxes for Gretchen tomorrow when she settled into her new apartment in Crawford. When Tami let them in, each was holding one of her boxes, and she tried to remember why she'd once intensely disliked Stumpy.

"Thank you for doing this," she told him.

"Well, helpful is my middle name," Stumpy said. He set the box down. "I mean literally. It's Cody. And that's what Cody means."

"Cody? That's not a very Italian name," she said.

"It's a mixed marriage. My mom's Irish."

"Well, Cody," Mr. Taylor said, "help me bring up the kitchen table. And Eric, you get the chairs. And Tami…would you mind going to buy us some beer for later?"

"Mr. Taylor, I'm not 21 yet." She wasn't going to admit to him that she and Eric both had fake I.D.'s. Eric had completely stopped using his. He was afraid of getting caught and getting benched at best, kicked off the team at worst, no matter how much Stumpy assured him that would never happen, so Tami had become the designated beer runner.

"Ah, I keep forgetting they raised that. Damn federal government, always meddling with the states. If you can go off and die in a war, I reckon you should be able to buy a drink before you do it."

Stumpy laughed. "Reckon? You really say that here?" Mr. Taylor looked him up and down with slow calculation and Stumpy grew immediately conciliatory. "I…uh…sorry….I just don't think I've heard anyone actually say that word yet."

"It's a useful word," Mr. Taylor told him. "Of German origin. Now c'mon and help me with that table."

Mr. Taylor was the one to go out and buy the beer after all the furniture was set up and arranged (and then rearranged) to Tami's satisfaction. He sat in the arm chair he'd brought from the old house while Tami, Eric, and Stumpy sat on the couch, Tami with a glass of sweet tea. Mr. Taylor had picked up a jug of that as well, along with a jug of milk, a loaf of bread, deli meat (which _the book_ told Tami wasn't safe to eat during pregnancy), apples, Wheaties (Eric's favorite cereal), toilet paper, paper towels, coffee grounds, coffee filters, and a few other things. He'd essentially done their grocery shopping for them, which Tami found simultaneously thoughtful and weird.

"How's Karen?" Tami asked him.

"Working hard. Taking yet another class at Tyler Community. Brushing up on something or another, still looking at medical school catalogs."

"I suppose you're working hard, too," Tami told him. "Thanks for taking the time out to help with the move."

"Not an issue. I've got to burn through a lot of stored-up, paid leave from the carpet store."

"You quitting soon?" Eric asked. "Going full-time at the handyman thing finally?"

"Sometime in the next two years, anyway." Mr. Taylor looked at Stumpy with a smirk. "I _reckon_ this Shiner Bock is pretty good. I _reckon_ I'm illegally contributing to the delinquency of a minor by buying it for you, Cody."

"It's Stumpy, Dad," Eric corrected him.

"I _reckon_ it is. What's the origin of that name do you _reckon_?"

Stumpy laughed. "I reckon it's because I'm kind of stumpy. Well, stocky anyway."

Mr. Taylor chuckled around the neck of his beer bottle, sipped, and said, "I reckon so." He lowered his beer. "I could throw in a _might could_ or a _used to could_ somewhere in the conversation if it would further amuse you."

"No need."

"Here in Texas, Cody, when a youth is talking to an adult, he says, No need, _sir_."

"I'm not sure you really do that in Texas," Stumpy said. "I don't hear even half of guys do that. Maybe forty percent."

"Well that's the forty percent that's going to go places," Mr. Taylor told him. "You should start calling yourself Cody. People like names like that for football players. No one wants to draft a Stumpy. Or a Giovanni."

"I don't have a snowball's chance in hell of being drafted."

"I don't know about that. Your coach just hasn't given you enough chance to work both sides of that hybrid position. That last game, when you pretty much acted as a wide receiver? You were impressive. I wonder why he doesn't use you more often that way?"

"I don't know," Stumpy said.

"Maybe you should suggest it," Eric told him.

"Sure, if I want to get chewed out and made to run laps like happened to you the last time you made a _suggestion_."

"He eventually _took_ my suggestion, though," Eric pointed out.

Mr. Taylor pointed his beer at Eric. "Now, the way that coach is playing Eric, I think if he would just…."

Tami grew bored as they continued to talk on and on about football, and so she eventually excused herself to make up the bed and take a nap.

She was awoken two hours later when Eric slipped in beside her and kissed her cheek. She turned and settled her head on his chest.

"My dad went home to Tyler and Stumpy left to go help Gretchen pack." He stroked her hair and curled a strand tightly around one finger. He smiled lecherously.

"I take it you want to christen our new bedroom?"

He slid down a bit in the bed and snaked a hand beneath her shirt. She'd taken off her bra before she went to sleep. His hands were cold. He must have just walked his father outside. She squirmed away when he cupped a breast.

"Let's start outside the clothes," she told him. "And work our way there."

"A'ight," he said, sliding his hand back out. "I like a slow build."

And it was a slow build….a deliriously gradual escalation of pleasure until a sudden avalanche of need swept them both under.


	20. January 19, 1990: Tired and Angry

**[Friday, January 19, 1990]**

Through the work study program, Tami had managed to obtain a morning desk job (8-12, Monday through Friday) in the Baylor Admissions Office, and she was taking 18 hours of classes in the afternoons and evenings and on Saturdays. Eric was working at the book store from 12 – 8 on Saturdays and Sundays and 6-9 Tuesday through Thursday, taking 16 hours of classes, and then, of course, there was football. Spring was a lighter season than the fall, with just the one spring game, but there was still so much work to be done. The coaches were limited to 20 hours a week of directly working with their players and to 15 total practices in the spring, but Eric was always running routes on his own, exercising, studying the playbook, or watching and dissecting game tape in the athletic office.

Sometimes, it felt like they only saw each other in passing. They'd had sex only three times since the New Year. Tami didn't mind that so much; she hadn't been in the mood, but she could tell Eric was tense from the lack of release, and she missed their talks, their cuddling, their time together. She'd been thinking about how much she missed all that this morning when the wave of nausea hit her.

Eric stood in the doorway of the bathroom and asked, "You a'ight?"

Tami flushed the toilet, stood, and washed her face. "I'll be fine."

"How can you keep going to work like this?"

"I'll be fine," she insisted.

"Maybe you should quit your job, just do the classes, rest more in the mornings."

"We need the money," she said. They'd started the year with quite the nest egg, between the gift money and their own savings, but she'd had to pay the fifty percent of her tuition that wasn't covered by scholarship, and then there were books and fees and the extra family health care premiums (Eric's scholarship would only cover an amount equal to his single premium) and co-pays. Eric had also needed to buy new parts for his truck last week, which Stumpy had kindly installed free of charge for him.

"We have plenty of savings left," he told her.

"We'll need more money when the baby comes. You won't be able to work in the fall. And there's fall tuition. We'll go through that savings faster than you think. I'll be fine. I'll just eat some saltines."

"A'ight." He stepped in the bathroom and kissed the top of her head. "I have to get to practice. Then I have my Texas history class, then that sports medicine class, then World War I. Then I have to study game tape at the office and run some routes. I'll be home at nine tonight."

It was 6:30 AM.

"Okay." She kissed his cheek.

"You get some rest sometime today," he told her.

 **[*]**

Eric kissed Tami awake. She looked at the clock. It was 9:15 PM. She'd crawled into bed as soon as she got home from her evening course. "Hey," he said, "you feeling better?"

"Yeah. The nausea was gone when I got to work. I think I'll be done with this part soon. I've already moved into the second trimester. It should be over already, according to the book." She was learning the book was not always accurate.

"How were your classes?" he asked.

"Good. I nodded off for ten minutes during Child Psychology."

"How was work?" he asked.

"Okay. I got a lot done. I found a way to speed up their filing system."

"That's good. Want to fool around?"

Tami closed her eyes. He'd sped through those questions only as a precursor to asking for what he really wanted. "Eric, I'm so tired."

He sighed. "Tami, it's been seven days."

"It's been five."

"At least six."

"Tomorrow. I promise."

"A'ight." He kissed her cheek. "If you're just sleeping, is it okay if I go meet Stumpy for a beer? I need to unwind."

She yawned. "I don't care," she muttered, and closed her eyes.

 **[*]**

Tami woke up at midnight to pee. Eric wasn't in bed. She went looking for him. She glanced out the window and saw his truck was still in the parking lot below. She looked out on the balcony and saw his bike was gone. Stumpy's dorm was only three miles away, and he'd probably biked there. They were trying to save on gas money and repairs, so they didn't drive their cars often. Tami's mother had suggested they sell one vehicle and share the other, to save on insurance and taxes and bank the bit of sales money, but Mr. Taylor had advised them that not having a backup could wind up being more expensive if one broke down, and what if, some future day, one of them had the car while the other was home with the baby and there was an emergency? That last question had terrified Eric, and he'd insisted on keeping both.

Tami tried to go back to sleep, but couldn't. She tried studying in the living room, but she was too tired to concentrate. She turned on the TV Joey and Sarah had bought for them as a wedding gift, and dazed at the soft glow. It was 1:00 AM now. She hoped Eric hadn't gotten drunk, fallen off his bike, and broken something. What if he was lying in a ditch somewhere? She nodded off and awoke when the door opened.

Eric walked in. He wasn't drunk, but perhaps the slightest buzzed. She could see his bike resting on the balcony now. He shut the door softly behind himself. "Hey," he said, surprised, "you're awake."

"I woke up and was worried when you weren't here." She glanced at the wall clock. "It's 1:30. Where have you been?"

"Just hanging out at the dorm with Stumpy and some guys. Had some beers."

Tami felt a sudden surge of loneliness and disconnection, a feeling of being trapped by her pregnancy, not free to have the fun he'd been having. "Were there girls there?"

"A couple…three. Maybe four."

They'd probably flirted with him, despite the wedding ring. He'd probably enjoyed it. "Must be nice, getting to go out and party with girls."

"Tami, you could have come with me. Or I'd have happily stayed here if you didn't want to sleep."

"Easy for you to say. You're not pregnant! Come with you and not drink? Come with you and be the fat, pregnant girl at the party?"

"It wasn't a party! It was just some people hanging out. You're not fat!"

"I have that Saturday class tomorrow at 8:30 AM," she muttered. It was a 2 hour and 45 minute seminar, a good way to knock out three credits with just one meeting a week. "I guess you'll sleep in until after I'm gone since you've been out so late, and then you'll go to your work-out and then to work and _I_ have to work and we won't see each other again until after dinner. But at least you got to hang out with some girls tonight, right?"

"Why are you so mad at me? I didn't do anything wrong! I asked if you wanted to fool around. I'd of stayed here. Gladly! "

Tami felt like crying. "Yeah, gladly, if you were getting laid! But if you're not getting that, what's the point, right?"

"You were sleeping! If you'd just wanted to watch a movie together and cuddle, I'd have been happy to do that too. But you were _sleeping_."

"Because I'm so damn tired all the time!" she shouted. "You don't understand!"

"I'm tired too! Do you know how hard I work?"

"So do I! I work hard too! But you don't have to do it pregnant! And you get to go out drinking with girls! How much did you flirt with them? Did you let one of them stick her tongue in your ear?"

"What the hell, Tami? That was over a year ago and I did _not_ invite that. You're gonna dredge that up and sling that at me? I didn't do _anything_ wrong! Why are you so mad at me? What's with the accusations?"

"I bet you had a real good time, didn't you?" she spat.

"You know what, if this is how you're going to be, if this is how you're going to treat me, I'll just go back and crash at Stumpy's. I'm sure as hell not going to get any sleep with you nagging me all night." He left, slamming the door behind him.

Tami crawled back into bed and eventually cried herself to sleep.


	21. Winter 1990: Hormones

**[Saturday, January 20, 1990]**

Tami had a hard time concentrating during her Behavioral Psychology seminar the next morning. She usually contributed a lot to the discussions, but today she just half-listened to the professor's lecture and the exchanges that followed.

She regretted the things she had said to Eric last night and worried about what he had done, after biking away, back to a dorm where drunken college girls were hanging out. She didn't believe he would cheat, but she hated the idea even of him flirting, laughing, _connecting_ with other girls when they clearly weren't.

Her head was bent as she walked out of the building and past the courtyard. She looked up when Eric called her name. He was sitting on top of a picnic table, his feet on the bench. She looked around and walked over to him, letting her backpack fall to the patchy grass. She knew he had to be at work in forty minutes.

He put a hand on either of her hips and looked into her eyes. "I don't want to fight with you."

She leaned into him, and his arms went around her, one hand in her hair, the other on her back. He breathed in.

"You _can't_ do that again," she insisted. "Walk out and stay somewhere else like that. I was so scared."

"I promise I won't do it again. But why do you seem so angry with me half the time? I'm trying to be a good husband, a good teammate, a good student, a hard worker. I'm trying so hard to do it all, Tami, and you just seem so irritated with me. Is it the pregnancy hormones?"

She pulled away. "It's the hormones, sure, Eric, but it's also _us_. I feel…l feel like we're…distant. Busy. And all you have time for is sex."

"Well you never have time _even_ for sex."

She looked down at the ground. "It feels like that's all you want me for."

"Tami…I…look. Sex isn't a casual thing with me. It means getting close to you. I don't just mean physically close. It makes me feel like you _want_ me. Like you love me. It makes me feel closer to you."

She put a hand on his knee. "Okay. I get it. Sex _is_ connecting for you. And you don't need a lot of other emotional connecting first. But I _do_. I need non-sexual time so I can feel connected enough to want the sexual time. I can't just barely see you for days and then suddenly want to have sex the instant you show up."

"A'ight. I hear what you're saying. We need to…we need to find a way to make some time here. Some time to spend together when you're not exhausted. When we can spend a couple hours connecting and _then_ _**connecting**_."

She smiled.

He seemed to be thinking. "I'll be home from work by 8:30 tonight. You try to take a nap this evening. I'll bring home some good ice cream." He smiled. Her heart swelled at that seductive little smile of his. She adored him in that moment. "I'll get that Ben & Jerry's you like."

"Cherry Garcia," she said, smiling back.

"Yeah." His voice was soft now. "We'll light some candles, sit at the kitchen table, talk, connect. Then maybe cuddle and watch some TV together. Then I'll skip my work-out Sunday morning. One skip isn't going to hurt me. I don't have to be to work until noon. We'll sleep in a little, then, when you're awake…maybe take a shower together….see where it goes."

Her smile grew. She knew exactly where it would go, and she appreciated that he was willing to put the conversation first for her sake. "I like that. A lot. That sounds like a really good plan."

"Yeah?" he asked hopefully.

She nodded and bit her bottom lip, fear and love and desire fluttering in her chest.

He kissed her for a long time.

"Get a room!" someone shouted as he walked by.

Eric pulled back. "I love you, Tami."

"We're going to figure this thing out," she said.

"What thing?"

"Marriage," she said. "Supporting ourselves. Becoming parents."

"Life."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Life."

" _Our_ life," he told her. "I wouldn't want to share it with anyone else."

 **[One month later…  
Saturday, February 17, 1990]**

When Tami awoke, she slid close to Eric in bed, reached around, and began slowly stroking him. He was still naked from last night's lovemaking. He murmured. He was half asleep, but he hardened in her hand. She kissed his ear.

"Tami," he muttered. "What time is it?"

"Sexy fun time," she said.

He rolled over. "Again?"

They'd had sex twice last night. And once on Thursday night. And once on Thursday morning. And twice on Wednesday night. And…

"I'm _so_ horny," she said with a pout.

The horniness had begun about a week ago, like a light switch flicking on in her brain and sending a constant electric current through her entire body. The book had told her that second trimester hormones _might_ cause increased libido, but she had no idea she would be thinking about sex _all the time_. Was this how sixteen year old boys felt? How did they function? How did they make it through a single day?

"Can't you let me sleep a little more?" he asked.

She ran a finger teasingly around his tip. "Seems like you're awake already, sugar."

"That's just morning wood." He rolled back over and dug his arm under the pillow.

"Please?" she asked. "I'll let you do it any position you want."

"Wake me up in twenty minutes."

"I can't wait twenty minutes."

"Then take a cold shower."

"Eric, I'll let you do it doggy style."

He raised his head from the pillow. Grinning, he rolled over to face her. "I swear. The things I have to do to keep the customer satisfied."

 **[Sunday, February 25, 1990]**

Eric turned a page in his Texas history textbook. He took a sip of his coffee. Tami was drinking half a cup. _The book_ had told her she wasn't supposed to drink too much caffine while pregnant.

"I think we should start going to church," she said.

"What?" He looked up from his book.

"I think we should start going to church. We're about to have a baby. It would be nice to have that kind of support community. And I want our son or daughter to grow up in the Christian tradition like we both did. Well, like I did. And like you did…on and off."

"Uh…well….I work from 12 to 8 on Sunday."

"Most churches have an early service. Last fall you said you'd go with me if I wanted to."

"Uh…" It was clear from his expression that he had never expected a follow-through from her with that suggestion.

"I'll get the phone book," she said. "See what churches are close by. Sometimes the phone book even has service times."

He had a deer in the headlights look when she sat back down at the table and opened the book. "Tami, Sunday mornings are really the only time _we_ have. You and I." They'd slept in until nine this morning, made love, showered, and finally sat down for breakfast at half past 10.

"Yes, but church is something we could do _together_. I really think it would be good for the baby if we got plugged into a community before he or she is born. A community with people of all generations, who can give us advice and support as new parents. A community with a youth group that has high school students who babysit for _cheap_. We aren't going to have Sunday morning to ourselves in a few months anyway. And we aren't going to have _any_ time to ourselves without a babysitter."

"Hmmm…I see your point there."

"Do you care what denomination it is?" she asked. "I know you're technically Episcopalian, but I don't know anything about that."

"I don't care," he said. "But no talking in tongues. Or waving hands around. And no churches that think you go to hell for listening to rock and roll music. But also none of these modern places that has a rock band up on the altar. No churches with more than 600 people. And none with less than 85."

She laughed. "Any other stipulations?"

"No female pastors."

She raised an eyebrow. "You have a theological objection to female pastors?" Her mother did. It never occurred to her Eric might.

"No. I'm just more likely to pay attention to a man."

"What if she has big tits?" Tami asked. "Would you be more likely to pay attention to her then?"

"C'mon. Don't be upset with me. It's just a preference. That's all. I'm used to male coaches."

"Fine. Here's one that looks good. University Methodist. 10 AM service. _Nursery_. Children's Ministry. Children's church. Pastor James Morgan. _James._ Sounds pretty masculine. What do you think? Let's try it."

"A'ight. You mean next week?" It was too late now.

"Yeah, we can start– Oh!" She put a hand on her stomach.

Eric's eyes widened. "You a'ight?"

"Here, here, here!" She waved him over. He scurried quickly to her. She grabbed his hand and put it on her stomach. "You feel it?"

He smiled. "Is that…is it kicking?"

She nodded.

"Wow. He's _really_ kicking! That boy's going to be a punter."

"It could be a girl, you know."

He dropped to his knees beside Tami, and moved his hand around to follow the movements. When the kicking had stopped, he put his ear to her stomach for a moment. Then he turned and kissed her belly. "Hey in there," he whispered, "I'm your daddy."


	22. Spring 1990: Anticipation

**A/N:** Fanfic net is being wonky today. I can't access the archives to see what stories others may have posted. It keeps saying "nothing with those filters" when there are no filters applied. So if you can see this update, please leave a review so I know! (And tell me what you think of this chapter while you're at it, of course.)

 **[Monday, March 26, 1990]**

Ultrasounds had been around for many years, but they had only recently become routine. Even now, Tami and Eric's insurance would not cover more than one in the course of the pregnancy unless there was a complication. Today was their one shot, and Eric stared in wide-eyed wonder at the rough outline on the screen, listening to the woosh-woosh of the baby's heartbeat. Tami smiled to see his smile grow.

"Your due date is still mid-July," Dr. O'Connor said. "Did you decide if you want to know the sex?"

Tami caught Eric's eye, ready to give him one more chance to back out if he'd prefer the surprise, but he nodded. They'd decided it was easier to know because they'd be able to prepare better on their limited budget.

"We want to know," she told the doctor.

"Well, as soon as we can get the baby to cooperate and turn…."

Tami liked her OBGYN. She had been afraid they might get poor coverage with student health, but Dr. O'Connor had a great bedside manner. He was informative and soft spoken and always took plenty of time to answer her questions.

In the end, however, the baby did _not_ cooperate, even though Dr. O'Connor dragged out the ultrasound longer than was normal. He finally had to throw in the towel. "We can try again, if you want, at the next appointment."

Tami shook her head. "I don't think our insurance will cover it."

"If you want to pay for it, Tami," Eric said, "We can."

She was less disappointed with the baby's lack of cooperation than she had thought she would be. "No. Let's not spend money on that. Let's just be surprised. That wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

"A'ight."

When Dr. O'Connor continued Tami's examination, Eric squeamishly left the room. Tami wondered how he was going to handle being in the delivery room.

 **[*]**

Eric looked up from his _Sports Illustrated_ when she walked into the waiting room and stood. "Everything a'ight?"

She smiled and nodded.

"Good. Since you're skipping work this morning anyway, want to grab breakfast before my first class?"

Over donuts, he talked about his upcoming spring game. His eyes were alight with excitement. She loved him like this, when he was full of the boyish joy of just playing, when he wasn't so weighted down by the competition, the need to be better than everyone else, the intense pressure to perform.

"Spring season is more fun, isn't it?" she asked.

"Nah. Yeah. I mean…it's…I don't know. When I was a kid, I used to play in the street, or in an empty lot, in a field…pick-up games, and there was no one watching you. No audience at all. No one judging, evaluating….you just _played_. I miss that. I'll never have that again. But there are moments….flashes when I still feel like that. _Free_."

"You feel a little like that about his upcoming game, don't you? Because it doesn't much matter? Not like the fall games?"

He smiled. "Maybe."

She leaned across the table and kissed him. "We need to talk about names." They'd been putting off this conversation until after the ultrasound, but since they were going to have to be surprised, it was time to discuss both lists.

"Eric Jr. if it's a boy, of course."

"No," she said.

"Why not?"

"Every junior I know ends up being called Junior or Sonny. I hate both. Besides…I'd kind of like to name him after my dad? Maybe?"

"Oh. Yeah. Of course, Tami. What was his name again?"

"Walter."

"Oh. Huh."

"We could call him Wally." It sounded awful when she finally said it aloud. But she _did_ want to honor her father. "Maybe as a middle name?"

"Yeah! A _middle_ name. That'd be good. I like Troy for a boy. Troy Walter."

"Because of Troy Aickamn?"

"I just like the name," Eric insisted.

"I don't like it."

"Why?"

"I just don't," she said.

"Danny?" he asked.

"Because of Danny White?" she asked.

"Danny Walter," he said. "Has a nice ring to it."

" _Daniel_ ," she said.

"A'ight. Daniel Walter. I can go for that."

Tami sipped her decaf coffee. "And if it's a girl?"

"Erica."

She laughed.

"What?" he asked innocently. "It's a beautiful name."

"No."

He chuckled. "What do you want?"

"I know this may sound silly…but I was thinking…maybe we could name her after Mrs. Hernandez. I had a weird kind of special connection with her. I talked to her about you a lot. She was a person that was a part of my life when I was falling in love with you. She gave me a lot of disjointed but still somehow helpful advice about dating you. And then you and I went on to make baby together."

"That doesn't sound silly at all. Unless her name is Hilda. Then it sounds ridiculous."

Her name had been in the memorial bulletin, but Tami supposed Eric didn't remember that. "It was Julia."

"Oh. That's a'ight. That's kind of pretty. Julia would be fine with me." He shrugged. "It's going to be a boy anyway. The way that baby kicks?"

 **[Sunday, April 15, 1990]**

Reverend James shook Eric's hand vigorously as they exited the service at University Methodist, which they'd been attending for six weeks. "That was some truly amazing work you did in that spring game yesterday."

"Yeah, too bad it doesn't count for anything," Eric said.

Tami put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure it was noticed, though, by the people who need to notice these things."

"Tami," the pastor said, "some of the ladies in the church would like to have a baby shower for you, so look at your calendar and let me know a good Sunday in May."

As Eric was helping her into his pick-up later, he said, "You may have been right about this church thing. Let's hope you clean up big time at that shower."

 **[Monday, April 23, 1990]**

Tami felt weird being at this football party, pregnant. It wasn't a party, really. It was just a bunch of players and their girlfriends (or girls who _wanted_ to be their girlfriends) sitting around the common room in Stumpy's dorm, drinking beer, and watching ESPN on the shared TV.

It was draft day, or, at least, the first day of it.

Tami had been given one of the two arm chairs, but most everyone else was on the floor. Eric sat at her feet, his arm draped across her knees, sipping the beer Stumpy had recently fetched for him. Two cheerleaders sat on the love seat, a buxom blonde and a less well-endowed but leaner red head. Tami was sure the red head kept stealing glances at her belly, then at Eric's crotch, then back at her belly. The blonde was running her mouth on and off. Stumpy kept casting her annoyed glances from where he sat on an orange crate he'd pulled out to the common room. He clearly wanted to hear the TV.

"The Raiders aren't going to want any Bears," Stumpy said. "They need a good defensive end. No offense, Johnny."

"None taken," a tanned, sandy blonde senior said. "I'm just glad I got my college paid for." Tami thought he was above average looking. Cute, but not quite hot. It bothered her a little that he hadn't even looked twice at her. Before she was pregnant, a guy like that probably would have been sneaking peeks all night. Instead, he gradually inched his way over to the feet of the red head, who began rubbing his shoulders.

The blonde girl started talking again, about nothing in particular. Tami heard the words "so totally drunk" and "wasted" and "best party ever."

"Shhh! Shhh! Shhhh!" Stumpy ordered her.

Eric's eyes honed in on the TV. "The Bengals need a linebacker."

Stumpy crossed both of his fingers.

"And the 12th pick of the draft goes to James Francis of the Baylor Bears."

"Another Bear makes it to the NFL!" Stumpy shouted, leaping up from his crate. As Eric rose to a standing position, Stumpy clapped him in a bear hug and said, "In two more seasons, that'll be you, brother."

"Or you," Eric assured him.

There was whooping and cheering and hugging and slapping and pouring of beer on each other's heads. Tami remained seated for the festivities. When Eric was done whooping, he grinned and bent down and kissed her. Beer dripped from his hair and down his forehead. "You're going to need a shower when we get home," she said.

"Wanna wash my back?"

[*]

When they got home, they waved to a couple who was on the lawn in front of the family housing complex, sitting cross legged on a blanket, glancing at the stars, and sharing wine (which was technically illegal outside the rooms). Rebekah was in law school, and Jacob was finishing up his college degree, after six years of part-time attendance. They were 27 and 24, Rebekah being the older of the pair, and they'd taken Eric and Tami under their wings a bit when it came to navigating the housing office and getting things fixed around the place. Their three year old was busy catching lightening bugs.

"Hey Rebekah, hey Jacob," Eric said.

"Any of your friends get drafted?" Jacob asked.

Eric shared the news. The couple offered to let them join them, but Eric was eager to get upstairs for that mutual shower. "I've got a bit of beer in my hair," he said.

"Ah, I remember those days," Jacob told him. "Forget about that in a few months. No more partying for you." Their little boy, Abe, caught a firefly and giggled. Jacob smiled and pointed at his son with his wineglass. "No party can match a laugh like that though, I'll tell you what. You'll see. Those laughs pay for all the crying."

"Look, daddy," the boy said, walking over to Jacob and opening his hands. The firefly took off into the evening air, trailing a flashing light, and Jacob let out a great big groan of displeasure, followed by a mounting wail.

"I think we'll be getting inside," Eric said, taking Tami's hand and tugging her toward the stairs. As they began walking to the second floor, he muttered, "God that kid is loud when he's upset."

"Get used to it, sugar."


	23. Summer 1990: Preperation

**[Sunday, May 20, 1990]**

Tami surveyed the second bedroom they'd be using for a nursery. It was chock full of stuff: the crib Mr. Taylor had given them and just finished assembling himself, the glider that Mom and Pastor John had shipped, which Mr. Taylor had also put together for her this afternoon, and all the loot from the church baby shower Tami had attended this morning - a playpen, a swing, a bouncy seat, a stroller, a play gym, and various other gear.

"I never had any of this stuff for Eric," Mr. Taylor said. "Well, except the crib."

"I don't think they get a lot of babies in that church," Tami replied. "Thanks for helping with all this."

Eric would be at work until 8 PM. Tami had been lightly cleaning the kitchen while Mr. Taylor assembled the crib and glider. She now sat down in the glider to try it out. "Nice," she said.

"Eric tells me you went ahead and registered for the fall semester."

"Yes." She braced herself for his disagreement with the idea.

"That's going to be very difficult for you – school and work and a baby. You realize how much time Eric is going to have to put into football?"

"I know. This will be his third season. I've already seen it."

"Not with a baby, you haven't."

"I'm not taking summer classes, and I'll take off six weeks from work after the baby is born." She went on to explain to him why she didn't want to stop going to school.

"That's understandable, Tami, but you're stretching yourself too thin. Something has to give. Do you have childcare planned for the fall?"

"My boss doesn't want to lose me." Tami was reliable and efficient as a secretary, but she'd also shared some ideas with the Assistant Dean of Admissions that had helped to streamline the admissions process and greatly impressed the woman. "She said I could bring the baby and keep him or her in the pack n' play at work near my desk, or in a sling as I work."

"That's all well and good until the baby starts climbing out. And when you're in classes?" Mr. Taylor asked.

Tami pushed off the floor with her feet and glided. "I'm only taking four classes." They would, however, total 15 credits. "I've stacked them all on Tuesdays and Thursdays." She would Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 8 to 5. "That leaves me the weekend to study, see Eric's games, and spend time with the baby." It all sounded very reasonable to her. Two full days off. She hadn't had two full days off since she started college. "There's a woman in our church, with good references, who will babysit for just $25 a day."

"$50 a week? And what do you make in a week?" Mr. Taylor asked.

"I'm not sure that's your business," Tami answered, a bit rankled. The truth was, after taxes she only netted about $150. After the babysitting expense, that would be $100. "But Eric isn't taking the meal plan anymore, so they're giving him a stipend for food. We'll have that too." Rebekah from downstairs was teaching her about maximizing coupons. She was better at that than Tami's own mother had been.

"Let me guess. Even with that food stipend, after childcare, you'll only have about $22 a day to live on in the fall when Eric isn't working. $22 a day. All _three_ of you." He wasn't far off. $22.25, to be precise. "For doctor's visits and insurance premiums and gas and car repairs and diapers and formula and groceries and - "

"- We don't have rent or utilities. And we still have savings to tap into."

"And how are you paying for tuition if you're hitting your savings to live?" he asked.

What was this? The Spanish Inquisition? He was acting like her father. Not even Pastor John acted like her father. "I got a 50% scholarship for next semester. The other 50% we'll take out student loans for. That's better than running up credit card debt."

Mr. Taylor shook his head. "Well, you think you've got it all planned out."

What did he mean, _think_? They _did_ have it all planned out. Sometimes her father-in-law really annoyed her. "Mr. Taylor, I know how to live on very little. I've done it since I was twelve."

"I understand if you find it awkward to call me Dad, but at least call me Garrett. I'm not your boyfriend's father anymore. Like it or not, I'm going to be your child's _grandfather_."

"Thanks for putting all this furniture together, Garrett," said Tami, standing from the glider. "And thanks for the crib."

"You're biting off more than you can chew, Tami. I'm not trying to be an ass. I've just been down this road before."

She asked if he'd like a beer, and he followed her out of the nursery. They settled in the living room, Tami with decaff sweet tea. Mr. Taylor glanced at the psychology textbook she'd left open on the coffee table. The spring semester was over, but she was already refreshing herself for the fall. "Does that pay well? Psychology?"

"If I go into private therapy, yes, it can."

"I wonder how much I could have made if I ever went to college."

Men measured their worth too much in dollars, Tami thought. She thought Mr. Taylor must do pretty well for himself – she'd heard the hourly charge he'd first quoted her mother before graciously offering her the Saturday Special. But she supposed anything must pale in comparison after you'd had your sights set on an NFL salary. "What would you have studied?" she asked.

"Truth is I can't think of anything I love, except football and working with my hands and fixing what's broken. And my family, of course."

"How's Karen?"

"Doing well," Mr. Taylor said. "Working a lot. Taking a refresher class during the week, getting ready to apply to medical school. I suppose we'll be moving in the next year."

"Moving?" Tami asked in surprise. As much as her father-in-law sometimes annoyed her, she liked having him within a three hour drive, and she wanted her child to know his or her grandfather. "Where?"

"Wherever Karen gets into medical school." He must have noticed her alarm, because he said, "Don't worry. She's only looking in Texas. The tuition will be lower in-state, and I made it clear I don't want to leave Texas."

Tami thought it was an odd match, the old fashioned, non-college-educated, ex-semi-pro football player turned handyman and the independent, career nurse who was planning to become a doctor. Or maybe it wasn't. They were both probably attracted to strong personalities and used to calling the shots, and, though married, they did seem to continue to move somewhat in their own circles. It did somewhat surprise her that Mr. Taylor would _move_ for his wife, however, when he had encouraged Tami to give up college for Eric, to make the sacrifices that would seem "unfair" but later "pay off," according to him. Mr. Taylor had lived in Tyler his entire life, after all.

"I think when we move," Mr. Taylor said, "I'll expand my handy man business, maybe even hire a few guys to work under me. If I put Karen through medical school, I suppose later she can support me in my old age, in the manner to which I've become accustomed."

Tami wasn't sure how serious Mr. Taylor was. He had a slight smile when he said it. She was a little surprised he would work to put his wife through school, given the fact that he'd encouraged _her_ to delay school. She said as much to him now, though in as subtle a way as possible.

"Well, I think you have to take turns in a marriage," Mr. Taylor told her. "I think that's how it works. Not that I would know. But it seems to me it's Eric's turn now. His time to concentrate on football, to make a career in the NFL. It won't last more than ten years. And if you manage your money well, you'll have plenty left over to pursue whatever dream you want. When he retires from the NFL, well, you'll be the age Karen is now, if not younger."

"Mr. Taylor, Eric may not make it to the NFL."

"Call me Garrett. And I believe he will."

"Why are you so sure?" Eric had generated some good buzz with his last game of last season, but no one was specifically talking about wanting to sign him. He wasn't even planning to put in for the draft until after his fourth season, in his senior year.

"Because Eric will work for it. He'll earn it. That is, if _you_ give him the time he needs to concentrate on football."

Tami felt like Mr. Taylor was putting an awful lot of Eric's success or failure on _her_ shoulders. "Eric works hard at everything he tries," she said. "He'll succeed, I'm sure, whether he plays for the NFL, or coaches high school, or becomes a history teacher, or…whatever he does."

Mr. Taylor looked at her, thinking Tami knew not what, and raised his beer bottle to his lips. Then he said, "You think he may not make it to the NFL. And you think if he doesn't, it'll soften the blow if you never told him you expected him to make it in the first place." He took another slow sip of beer and then concluded, "It _won't_ soften the blow. And he ought to know his wife believes he'll make it."

"I…" Tami gathered her words. "I believe in Eric," she said. "Not in his future in the NFL, not in his ability as a football player, not in his earning potential, but in _him_. I believe in _him_ as a person. And I'll accept him and value him, come rain or come shine. _That's_ what he ought to know."

Mr. Taylor tilted his head in a listening posture, but he did not respond.

"He ought to know you feel that way too," Tami said. "If he doesn't make the NFL, it's going to hurt, yes, but not only because he'll disappoint himself. He doesn't want to disappoint _you_. And if there's one thing I'm going to make sure he understands, it's that he'll never disappoint _me_."

Tami meant every word, but, in retrospect, she wished she'd been less adamant. Nothing good could come of offending her father-in-law. He did not appear offended, however. He appeared almost amused.

"You've taken a few psychology courses," he said. "And you imagine you understand the male ego." He chuckled. He quietly finished his beer. "Thank you for the drink," he said at last. "I reckon I best be heading back to Tyler. I'll stop by the bookstore and say hello to Eric, but Karen wants me home before dark." He stood. "I have to get used to answering to someone besides myself."

She let him out the door without telling him that, despite all his years of raising his son, and despite all his dedication as a father, she might actually know Eric better.

 **[Friday, June 8, 1990]**

"Want to fool around?" Eric asked. Eric had taken on extra hours at the bookstore for the summer, but he kept his Friday nights free, so he was home first. Tami, on the other hand, had _just_ gotten home from work.

"Eric," Tami said, "Let's try this again." She walked out the apartment door.

When she came back in again, this time, he said, "May I make you some dinner, my beautiful bride? Perhaps we could eat it by candlelight, and then see where the evening leads."

She smiled with approval. "That's _much_ better."

 **[Friday, June 15, 1990]**

"I can't…this isn't going to work," Eric muttered.

They tried switching positions to a different suggestion in the book.

"I'm so uncomfortable," Tami complained.

They tried switching positions again.

"I don't know what that book was talking about. I can't reach, babe. I'm not the amazing extendable man."

Tami sighed. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him where he stood, his erection now half subsided. "Why don't I just blow you?"

He laughed. "Well…if you insist."

"You can take care of me later." Tami smiled and slid off the edge of the bed and to her knees. "You're going to enjoy this," she promised as she put a hand on each of his bare hips.

"You do't have to tell _me_ that," he said with a grin. "You're a genius at this."

She giggled and kissed his hip. "How would you know? I'm the only one who's ever done it to you." That was a point she rather prided herself on.

"Because it's better even than my fantasies, Tami." He put a hand on the back of her head and urged her toward his growing erection. She obliged. "That's so good, babe. Oh...yes..."

 **[Friday, June 22, 1990]**

"It's been six days," Eric complained.

"Four," Tami insisted.

"Five at least."

"I feel so bloated. This baby is constantly pushing on my bladder. Every time we start to fool around, I have to pee. And I'm tired. I'm sorry. It's just _not_ happening tonight."

"Not even a - "

"- No."

Eric sighed.

 **[Friday, June 29, 1990]**

Eric laughed while he caught his breath. "Feel kind of like I'm in high school again," he said.

They were on the futon in their bedroom, and she'd just given him a hand job while he played with her breasts, which had grown a cup size larger in the course of the pregnancy.

"Sorry," she said, "but I just don't feel like going all – "

" - It's a'ight. It's kind of exciting. Those were really exciting times, when i was tutoring you...The anticipation. Getting a little bit farther with you each time. It was so….I don't know. I was _constantly_ thinking about you back then."

"In the shower?"

He laughed. "Everywhere. Damn, the fantasies I had of you, Tami…"

"Share one," she said with a smile.

"No way in hell."

She pouted, but he still wouldn't share.

Eric rested a hand on her naked stomach. "You're beautiful," he told her. He slid his hand over her taut flesh. "And soon I'm going to meet our beautiful child."

She put her hand over his and pressed it down. Together they felt the baby roll, like a wave of life.


	24. July 9: Advent

**A/N:** I don't know if Julie's birthday was ever mentioned in the show, and it seemed like some of those kids were in high school for 6 years. Anyway….if this birth time is not canonical, bear with it.

 **[Monday, July 9, 1990]**

Tami was filing some admission applications when she wet herself. Mortified, she ran to the bathroom, but the water just kept coming. It was then she realized what had happened.

The Assistant Dean of Admissions drove her to the hospital, after calling the football office to relay the message to Eric. In four years, he would own a cell phone, but at the moment, that was the best they could do.

It must have taken awhile to track down Eric, because he didn't arrive at her bedside for almost an hour. When he did, he looked frantic, his hair all eschew and slightly damp from sweat. He was in his black running shorts and a short-sleeve Baylor's t-shirt. He seized her hand and looked at the monitor blipping out her contractions. "Does it hurt?" he asked.

"Not much yet. The contractions aren't coming like they hoped. They're talking about giving me pitocin."

"Pit - what?"

"It will speed up my labor. Which means it's going to hurt like hell. I've already asked for an epidural. Does that make me weak?"

"What? You're the strongest person I know, Tami." He squeezed her hand. Then a shadow of concern crossed his face. "Will our insurance cover it?"

"Yes. I checked. But it's nice to know money is more important to you than my comfort."

Eric ignored the irritated jibe. "I called your mom. She's driving down. Shelley's at cheerleading camp this week, so she can't make it. My dad will be on his way in a couple hours, as soon as he finishes installing some fan."

 **[*]**

"Aaaaargh!" Tami screamed. Once they'd given her the pitocin, things had preceded relatively quickly. It seemed she was at the tail end of her labor now.

Eric shifted from foot to foot, his eyes shifting from Tami to the doctor to the monitor to the doctor to Tami.

"Oh no!" Tami's mom screamed. She'd recently arrived and been in the room for the last fifteen minutes. "No! My baby is in pain!"

"Get her out of here," Tami muttered to Eric.

Eric ushered Tami's mom out of the room and came back in.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to feel anything!" Tami hissed to the doctor.

"I turned down the epidural so you could feel to push," the doctor replied. "Now just give me three or four more good pushes, and we'll be there."

Eric stood at her bedside and took her hand. "Push, babe," he said.

"Tell me what to do again, Eric, and I'll rip your balls off."

The doctor glanced at Eric and smiled. "Don't worry. I've heard wives say a lot worse."

 **[*]**

The baby wasn't crying. Why wasn't the baby crying? The doctor had spirited it away to a corner of the room, and two nurses had surrounded it. Eric followed them, a hand dug deep in his hair.

Tami felt her heart sink deep into her chest and then lift again like a rocket when a cry erupted through the room. The cry was followed by Eric's audible sigh of relief.

"Do you want to cut the cord?" the doctor asked him.

Soon, Eric lay the baby into Tami's arms. "It's a girl," he said.

"Are you disappointed?"

"What? No. I _wanted_ a girl. She'll massacre the opposition in the Powder Puff games."

Tami laughed.

"Even better," Eric said, "she'll adore me. A son would never do that."

The baby rooted for Tami's breast.

"You can go ahead and feed her," the doctor said, "but we're going to have to transfer you to a non-delivery room soon. The hospital is crowded today."

Tami opened her gown. It was awhile before the baby latched on. Then she fell off and latched on again. Eric gently touched her head. "Hey, Julia, babe," he whispered, "welcome to the world, beautiful."

"You can let my mom back in now," Tami said. She felt sweaty and exhausted but full of relief and joy.

Eric opened the door. "Hey, Grandma," he said, "you can come in now."

Eric had always avoided addressing Tami's mom with any term. Mrs. Wilson was too new (he'd been so used to Mrs. Hayes), and Mom was too weird. Barbara was too familiar. Now, though, Tami supposed, he finally had something to call her.

Tami's mother fawned over the baby and declared her perfect.

 **[*]**

Eric came back into the room to which Tami had been transferred after going to check if his father had arrived.

"My dad's here," he said. "I took him to the nursery, and he took one look in the window, and he picked out Julie right away."

"Really?"

"Probably because of the name tag," Eric admitted. "Anyway, he brought cigars. Would you mind if I…"

"You smoke?" She'd never _seen_ him smoke.

"On special occasions. Like when my wife gives me a beautiful baby. Or when I make it to the NFL." He winked.

She smiled wearily.

"Do you think I will?" he asked. "Make it?"

She looked into his needy face and thought of her weeks ago conversation with Mr. Taylor, and she temporarily doubted her own judgment. She wondered what to say. Finally, she settled on, "I believe in you, Eric."

He smiled. "I love you, Tami. Thank you for my baby girl." He bent and kissed her. Then he whispered, "So…is it okay? If I go hang with my old man?"

"Go ahead. I want to sleep anyway, at least until they bring her to me to feed again." Or until they woke her up to poke and prod her and take her temperature or whatever those random nurses insisted on doing. "I don't know why they can't just do their checks at the same time I'm feeding her."

Tami wasn't going to get much sleep in this hospital. She couldn't _wait_ to go home.


	25. July 11 - August 9: Feeding

**[Thursday, July 11, 1990]**

Tami was released from the hospital Wednesday morning, even though the insurance would have covered another night. She wanted out of that laboratory of poking and prodding. She wanted to sleep without a nurse waking her up. She wanted her own bed.

While Eric worked at the bookstore and trained and went to class and studied, Tami's mother cooked and cleaned and changed diapers, and Tami fed and slept and fed and slept and fed. She was starting to feel like a cow. As she sat on the living room couch now, Julia suckling, pulling away and crying, and suckling again, her mother said, "That baby isn't getting enough milk. I don't think you're producing enough milk. You need a warm beer."

"What?" This coming from her anti-drinking mother?

"It will help you make more milk."

"But then I'd have to pump and dump. I hardly get anything when I pump as is. I don't want to waste it."

 **[Monday, July 16, 1990]**

Eric couldn't come to the appointment this morning because of a history class, so Tami's mom was with her instead. Tami did not like this pediatrician, but there were only two who were covered by their insurance who were still taking on new patients, and the other one was a forty minute drive.

Dr. Martin had no bedside manner whatsoever. "Your baby isn't getting enough milk," he told Tami. "She's losing weight. That's normal in the beginning, but not this much." Dr. Martin glanced down at his beeper. He walked out of the room without saying anything.

"I told you so," Tami's mom said. "You need to give that baby some formula."

"I don't want to do that, Mom. It's not good for the baby. Breast milk is best for them – all the studies show it – IQ, allergies, asthma, eczema - "

"- Almost everyone bottle fed when I had you. You were bottle fed, and you turned out just fine. Eric was obviously bottle fed, no mother around, and he turned out just fine, too. If you bottle fed, I could feed the baby. Eric could feed the baby."

"Well, I could pump some breast milk and you could – "

" - Then you would have to pump and feed and pump and feed and pump….you're not getting enough rest, Tami. You're tired. You look tired. And you're irritable. You need to think of your marriage."

"Excuse me? My marriage? If Eric can't take me being a bit tired and irritable after I gave birth to his baby, then he can get himself another wife."

"Tami, be mad at me all you want. I'm just speaking the truth in love. Men _need_ attention. Trust me, I was in this position twice with your father. When a baby comes along…" She shook her head. "Well, the baby gets all the attention. And men start to feel useless. Unwanted. Undesired. Neglected. You've got to stroke his ego, Tami. Among other things."

Tami's mouth dropped open. "I cannot believe you just said that, Mom. You, who told me I'd go to hell if I ever touched a guy like that."

"Well you're _married_ now, Tami. It's completely different."

The doctor walked back in. He plopped two cans of formula down on the desk. "Free samples. I suggest you supplement while you're trying to increase your milk production."

"See!" Tami's mom said.

"But I want her to have breast milk _exclusively_ ," Tami said. "Everything I've read – "

"- Breast is best," Dr. Martin told her, "but not starving to death is better."

 **[Tuesday, July 17, 1990]**

"I miss your mom's cooking," Eric said as he put some sandwiches on the table for them, "but I'm so glad she's gone. She was driving me crazy."

"Me too," Tami admitted. "Of course, Shelley's coming this weekend."

 **[*]**

Tami awoke to the sound of Julia crying. They had her in a bassinet at the foot of their bed for the time being. She would move to the nursery when she was a bit older.

Eric retrieved the baby and handed her to Tami, who unceremoniously popped her on a breast. Tami dozed off and awoke to the baby crying again.

"Should I maybe get a little of that formula in a bottle for her?" Eric suggested. They'd collected three different kinds of bottles at the baby shower. Tami had planned not to use them at all for the first three months, and then _only_ to hold pumped breastmilk.

She sighed. "I guess maybe you better. How long has she been at my breast, and she's still hungry?"

"A long time," Eric said.

When he returned with the bottle, he held Julia and offered it to her. She took a while to accept it, but once she did, she vigorously sucked the entire ounce down.

"Hungry little piggy," Eric whispered, and then examined her tiny fingers, one by one.

Tami slid out of bed. "I'm going to try to pump," she said. "She needs the breast milk."

 **[Wednesday, July 17, 1990]**

Julia would not stop crying. Tami glided with her, walked with her, bounced with her, ran the vacuum, and still she would not stop crying.

She'd been crying for an hour when Eric got home from work at the bookstore.

He picked her up, strapped her into the swing, and turned it on. Julia instantly grew quiet.

"How did you know that would work?" Tami asked.

"I didn't. But now we know."

 **[Thursday, July 18, 1990]**

Eric brought Tami the baby, and Julia rooted for her breast. They were watching TV after a late dinner, and Eric was reading his history book beside her.

He gazed at Tami's exposed breasts. She'd simply unbuttoned her shirt. She didn't bother to wear a bra around the apartment at all anymore. "I miss those breasts," he said.

Tami hadn't permitted him to touch them since the baby was born. They were sore, between the feeding and the pumping and the feeding and the pumping…the last thing she wanted was Eric demanding them too.

"Suck it up, buttercup," she told him.

The baby pulled away from her breast and howled.

"Should I get Julie just a little bit of formula?" Eric asked.

"Julie? You don't want to call her Julia?"

He shrugged. "I'm tired. It's too many syllables."

Tami laughed. Their daughter became Julie from that day forward.

"So, should I get the formula?" he asked.

"I guess you better. I don't know why she can't get it out of me. Bring me the pump too."

The pump didn't get much out of her either. All that effort, all that time, and only an ounce.

 **[Saturday, July 21, 1990]**

"I'm totally your coolest aunt," Shelley told the baby. Julie was lying on her back beneath the play gym, staring up at the toys, and Shelley was beside her on the living room floor, on her stomach. "Well, I guess I'm your only aunt."

"She has an Aunt May," Eric said, fast forwarding through his game tape. He did this at home now, when they would let him borrow the tape. Mr. Taylor had given him a VCR for the purpose. "My Aunt May."

"Well that's not an aunt, that's a great aunt," Shelley said.

"A grandaunt, actually," Eric corrected her.

"I suppose you know the difference between first cousins once removed and second cousins too," Shelley said.

"I do," he said.

Shelley looked at the TV. "How many times are you going to watch this same play?"

"As many times as I need to."

"She's asleep again," Shelley said. "Is that all she ever does? Sleep, sleep, sleep? It must be easy for y'all, huh?"

Eric and Tami both stared her down.

"She sleeps a lot at this age," Tami said, "but when she's awake, she's often crying. And I still have to wake her up to feed her every two to three hours, because she's not getting enough to eat. And then I have to pump before I go back to sleep. And change her, and – "

"- In other words, it's NOT easy," Eric said. He returned his gaze to the television, asking, "Say, Shelley, when do you have to head back to Tyler?"

 **[Thursday, August 9, 1990]**

Tami's milk was all dried up now. She'd gradually supplemented, a bottle here, a bottle there…until, eventually, she was entirely formula feeding Julie. "I feel like such a failure."

"You're not a failure," Eric assured her as he drained his energy drink. It was green. What did he put in that mess? Tami had tasted it once and spit it out.

Summer camp was underway, the most intense part of the summer season. He had two-a-days, which meant four hours a day of training on top of his private workouts. He was in fantastic shape, Tami thought, while she'd only shed eleven pounds of her pregnancy weight, and most of that was water and the baby. The rest had come straight out of her breasts, she was sure.

"She got the colustereum or whatever it's called."

"Colostrum," Tami corrected him.

"Yeah. That's the good stuff, right? And she got four week's worth."

"A little less than four weeks, and not even exclusively."

He turned on the kitchen sink and rinsed out his glass. "Tami, stop beating yourself up. You were miserable, trying to make that work. Exhausted and miserable. You got infected, babe. Got that masatutus."

"Mastitis," she corrected him. It was clearing up now and should be gone in another day or two. "And good mothers feed through the pain. But I'm a quitter."

He walked over and hugged her.

"Julie's going to be dumber and have more allergies and more asthma and more eczema now. And we're not going to bond as well," she cried. "She's going to hate me!"

He kissed the top of her head. "Babe, think of all the things you've hated your mother for."

"Well there's been a lot of things over the years!"

"Yeah. And is not breast feeding you on that list?"

"No," she admitted.

"I didn't think so." He kissed her lips. "Y'all have a good day. I'll be home at 6:30."

That was twelve hours from now.


	26. August 20: Red Light

**[Monday, August 20]**

When Julie was six and a half weeks old, Tami returned to work in the Admissions Office, arriving at 8 AM for her ten hour shift. She settled the baby into the portable pack n' play by her desk. Tomorrow she would start the fall classes she'd stacked entirely on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but today she had to juggle phones and filing and typing and bottle feeding and quieting the baby when she cried.

Tami ended up wearing Julie in the baby sling most of the day. She received quizzical looks from some of the staff and kept having to explain that the Assistant Dean had said it was okay to bring the baby to work. She got home at 6:15 and, exhausted, lay down in bed with Julie on her chest. She woke up at 7:00 when Julie started wailing and fixed her a bottle. Eric came home just as she was burping the baby, and she realized she hadn't started heating dinner. She had a lasagna prepared she'd meant to warm.

Fortunately, Eric came bearing Chinese take-out, and, with it, a single red rose. He set the table while Tami changed Julie and lay her on her back under the play gym.

"You're so sweet," she told him as she sat down to dinner.

"Look at her," he said as he glanced over Tami's shoulder to Julie on the floor. "Look at that arm. She's got a really good arm, don't you think? For a six week old? She's a bit over six weeks old now, isn't she?"

Tami laughed. "I don't know what's normal arm strength at this age."

"Look at her slap that octopus. She's just _slapping_ it, babe."

Tami smiled.

He volunteered to wash the dishes while she settled Julie into the crib. (They'd moved Julie out of their room on Sunday, before Tami went back to work, in hope that they would get better sleep. She was waking up at 12:30 AM and 5 AM now, which gave them 4.5 solid hours of sleep in the middle of the night.) Also, she'd been growing fast since they'd switched to formula, and she would soon be too big for the bassinet.

They settled onto the couch, and Eric stretched an arm around her. "How was your day?"

"Exhausting. People kept looking at me funny. But I got my work done. How was yours?"

"Same," he said.

"People kept looking at you funny?"

"Turns out I had my jersey on inside out."

She laughed.

He kissed a bare spot between her neck and her shoulder. She was wearing just a tank top. "So…uh….six weeks, huh?" he asked. "Six weeks. That's when the doctor said you'd have the green light and be good to go, right?"

"Jesus, Eric!" Tami pulled away from him. "Is _that_ why you were being so nice? The dinner and the rose? Because you want to get laid?"

"I was being nice because I love you. And because I know it's important for you to have that emotional connection before the sexual connection. You told me how much that matters to you. So I was making the effort."

"So you could get laid! After I worked all day _while_ taking care of the baby all day!" Tami wasn't quite sure why she was so mad about this, but she _was_ mad.

"I worked all day too, Tami. I went to a two-hour morning practice, and then I went to two classes, and then I studied game tape, and then I went to a two-hour evening practice. Back to back to back to back. I'm tried too. But I'm not too tired for you."

"So you bring a rose. Did you read that in a playbook somewhere? Bring a rose, get laid?"

"Damn, Tami, why do you have to be so judgmental? We haven't had sex in over two months! You haven't even _touched_ me in a sexual way since the baby was born. Even though, on our honeymoon, you _promised_ you would give me hand jobs and blow jobs during the first six weeks."

"Well forgive me for not realizing how little sleep I'd get and how I'd be turned into a cow! How little you'd be home to help!"

"Please don't yell at me," he said quietly but thinly. "I _am_ doing what I can to help. But I have to work and train and take classes. I have to do these things. I'm not out partying. I'm working. And then I come home and get treated like…" He threw up a hand and shook his head. "You act like there's something _wrong_ with me for wanting sex with my own wife. For wanting some kind of sexual connection. _Anything_. Some kind of acknowledgment that you're not…un-attracted to me." He didn't sound angry so much as wounded. He looked like he was about to cry. That was when she noticed the dark bags beginning to form under his eyes from lack of sleep.

"Eric, I'm sorry."

They'd had a fight like this before. How often were they doomed to repeat the same arguments? Is that what married couples did? Hadn't they both learned from the first round? Well, it seemed Eric had learned something. He'd _tried_ tonight, at least. He'd wooed her before he'd made his move, but she didn't like that he'd done it with a single goal in mind. Why couldn't spending time together and being nice to her _be_ his goal?

Part of her couldn't help resenting him his freedom from the responsibility of motherhood. Fatherhood wasn't quite the same. It was nowhere near as physically and emotionally demanding, at least not as far as she could see. But she wished she hadn't yelled.

"You're right," she told him. "I don't know why I reacted like that. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I'm just so tired. And I don't feel ready for sex yet. I'll just give you a blow job instead. Let me give you a blow job."

"I don't want it like _that._ I don't want a reluctant, duty blow job, Tami. No one wants that!"

"Eric…" She reached out to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck, a conciliatory gesture, but he just jerked his head away.

"Let's just go to bed early." He stood.

She followed him down the hall. When they had their teeth brushed and eased under the sheets, she lay her head on his chest. He felt stiff, and his arm lay very loosely around her. He didn't stroke her back or arm or anything. "I can't sleep on my back, Tami," he said after two minutes of lying rigidly beneath her touch.

She rolled to her side, hoping against hope that he would roll over and spoon with her, as he did so many nights when they were drifting off to sleep, but instead he rolled in the other direction, his back toward hers.

She scooted back until they were at least touching, back to back.


	27. August 21: Green Light

**[Tuesday, August 21]**

Tami awoke at 6 AM. Eric was sitting on the edge of the bed, tying his shoes. "Julie was up at 5," he said in a business-like manner. "I fed and changed her. She's in the swing in the living room, asleep. I left you coffee." He stood. "I need to get to morning practice." He usually left at 6:30. He was sure in a hurry to get out of her presence. "Good luck at your classes today," he said.

She had all 15 semester hours crammed in two days, 8:30 – 10:00, 10:30 – 12:30, 1:00 - 3:00, and 3:30 – 5:30 every Tuesday and Thursday so she could work the rest of the week. She figured she'd bring a Slim Fast bar for lunch and eat it between the second and third class. She needed to lose her pregnancy weight anyway.

"What's your day like? When will you be home?" she asked him.

"I have practice from 7:30 to 9:30. Then I'll shower. Review game tape in the office for a couple of hours. Grab lunch. I have that Sports Medicine class 12:30 to 2, and then World War II from 2:30 - 4. Then I have to meet Stumpy to run routes. I should be home at 6:30."

How many girls would hang about the stadium and admire him as he ran routes, Tami wondered, or flirt with him in class? How many perfectly manicured girls, with hair they'd had time to style, and no spit-up on their shoulders, and no pregnancy weight, and no sleep dust in their eyes? How many who would be more than happy to give him a blow job, if he only asked, without dinner, and without a rose?

"I'll have dinner ready when you get home," she said, a peace offering of sorts, but he didn't acknowledge it. He lifted his Baylor's cap off the dresser and put it on his head.

"Eric," she said when he was in the door frame. "Thank you. Thank you for feeding her this morning. And changing her. And leaving me coffee. Thank you for dinner last night, and the rose."

"You're welcome," he said and disappeared down the hallway.

The babysitter showed up at 8:10 AM, giving Tami just enough time to get to her first class. She did her best to concentrate, but it was weird, knowing Julie was with someone else, someone she didn't know terribly well. Of course she'd talked to the woman in church, and she'd double checked her references, but still….Tami was used to feeding Julie and putting her to sleep and counting her fingers and toes, over and over. Not taking boring notes.

Tami looked around at all these other college kids. They were her age, every one of them, but they weren't thinking about the babies they'd left behind. They were thinking about Friday's party and how drunk they could get without passing out and who they were going to "hook up" with. (Tami still hadn't figured out what that new term meant. People had started using it recently. It seemed to cover everything from kissing to sex.)

She pushed through that class, went to the next one, ate a Slim Fast bar, and then went to the third one, which was a Family Therapy class.

"Why do babies typically look more like their fathers than their mothers?" the professor asked.

Julie did look a lot like Eric, Tami thought. Her eye color hadn't settled yet, but Tami was pretty sure they weren't going to be blue like hers. And old baby photos of Eric looked very much like the still mostly bald Julie.

Someone raised a hand. "Genetics?" he guessed.

"Well, this is a psychology course," the professor said. "You think I might be looking for something a little different?"

Someone else raised a hand. "So he won't eat his young?"

The class laughed.

"Close," the professor said. "So he knows the baby is _his_ , and he's less likely to abandon the child."

"I don't look anything like my father," one student said. "I look more like the mailman."

The rest of the students laughed, but not Tami.

She missed her baby.

 **[*]**

Tami paid off the babysitter and then went straight to Julie when she got home. She held her baby and counted all of her fingers and toes. Ten of each, as usual. She looked into her baby's eyes, and speculated what color they would finally be. She tickled Julie's tummy, and sang to her. After a few minutes, she put Julie on her back under the play gym and started dinner.

When Eric got home, Tami already had the meal on the table. "I made your favorite," she said. "Lasagna." She'd bought the groceries in bulk on Sunday, made four lasagnas, and frozen three. The fourth she'd left in the fridge, planning to have it yesterday, but he'd brought home the Chinese.

He glanced at the food on the table, said nothing about it, and went straight to Julie, lying down on his side before the play gym.

Tami felt a pang of fear. How hurt was he, and how were they going to bridge this gap between them? He wasn't being mean or angry, but he was being distant. Somehow, that was worse. She'd rather he yell at her, the way she'd yelled at him last night. Yelled at him for wanting to make love with her.

He pulled one of the toys down, a little monkey, with an arm that stretched as it was pulled, and he bopped Julie's nose with it. "Monkey noodle," he said, "with noodle arms."

He put it in Julie's hands, and she curled her fingers around it, but she couldn't hold onto it. It flew back up. Julie gurgled.

"She smiled!" Eric exclaimed. "I think that was her first _real_ smile. The others were probably just gas, but that one was definitely real."

Tami's heart swelled to see his excitement. Watching him as a father made her love him more. She sat down on the floor near him. "You're a good father," she said. "I always imagined you would be."

"Even if I'm never around to help?"

"You do help. I'm sorry I said that. We've both been really stressed out. Can we call a truce?"

Eric hovered his finger over Julie's little hand. She grasped it as best she could. Eric smiled.

"Eric? Can we?"

"Yeah," he half whispered. "Of course." He turned his head toward Tami and searched her eyes. "You do know I love you, don't you? That you and this baby…y'all are my world."

"I know. But I also feel like you and I have been moving in different worlds lately."

He looked back at Julie. "Yeah. So do I."

"Come eat with me."

As they ate, she asked him to tell her about his day, and she listened and asked questions and tried to show more interest than she usually did in the daily workings of his training. After dinner, he put Julie down for her first round of sleep while she did the dishes. When she finished, she came and stood in the doorway and watched him sing their baby to sleep in her crib. He was a little off key, but she couldn't help but find him adorable.

She took his hand when he reached the doorway and led him to their bedroom, where she began to unbutton his shirt. She caressed the sinews of his chest. He closed his eyes while she kissed each spot her fingers had touched. "What do you want?" she asked him.

He opened his eyes. "I want you to sit between my legs and lean back against me while I play with your breasts." The breasts that had for weeks belonged only to the baby.

Tami took off her shirt and bra and they walked over to the bed. He leaned back against the wall (the futon didn't have a headboard), his legs spread open, and when she eased between them and leaned back against his chest, he began to fondle her slowly and gently, squeezing and circling and pinching lightly. He kissed her neck and whispered in her ear, "I missed this. Did you miss it at all?"

She hadn't, because she'd forgotten what it felt like. She'd forgotten how badly it could make her tingle and ache, how her breasts could be more than tools. "I love your touch," she told him as she stretched her arms behind herself and hooked her hands behind his neck, giving him a better view and freer access. "I love your hands on my tits, Eric." She didn't usually use that word, but she wanted him to know she was thinking in purely sexual terms tonight.

His breath grew deeper in her ear. "Yeah? You like it when I play with your tits, babe?"

"Yes. I want your hands on them. I want your hands all over my body."

He let one hand fall from her breasts to unsnap and unzip her shorts.

"Yes, there too, Eric. _Please_."

He slid one hand into her panties while he continued to fondle a breast with the other. She closed her eyes and moved against his hand, up and back, feeling his erection through his athletic shorts every time she moved back.

"Yeah," he murmured, kissing her neck. "That's good, babe. You like that?"

"Yessss…You make me feel so good, Eric…your touch is perfect…" She jerked her hips around his fingers. "You make me so wet. I want you so badly right now." She wasn't just stroking his ego, though she was doing that, too. She _did_ want him badly right now. She needed to be close to him.

"Do you want to go all the way?" he asked.

She smiled at the phrase, as if they were still in high school, and not married, and parents.

"Yes. Take me all the way, sugar," she told him.

"I will," he whispered. "But let me play first. Let me make you want it more."

 **[*]**

"I'm sorry," he said again.

They lay naked together, Tami's cheek on his shoulder, one of her legs wrapped around his. The foreplay had been drawn out, tantalizing and teasing and rewarding, but once he was inside her, he came in just two strokes.

"It's okay," she said. "Eric, it's been a long time. And you already made me cum once when you were touching me."

"I wanted to make you cum again."

She kissed his shoulder. "I know. Next time. It's probably for the best anyway. I was a little sore. It may take a while to get back in the groove of things. Until then…a lot of foreplay and a little…uh…performance time is maybe for the best." The book had warned her she might be sore the first couple of times back. She ran a hand over his chest. It was amazing how much more relaxed he was now. "You really need that physical release, don't you?"

He yawned. "Yeah."

"And…it doesn't work….just to…."

"Jerk off in the shower?"

She hadn't wanted to say it. She knew he'd been doing that a lot lately. His showers were long. Sometimes he used up all the hot water.

"That relieves a little tension, Tami, sure, but…not like what you can do to me. And it's…it's not just about the physical release, you know. It's that connection. With _you_. _That's_ what makes me feel at peace. I love you."

She kissed his cheek. She felt at peace too, for the moment. She had a sense that they had a long road ahead of them, that there would be more tense moments between them. But for now, she enjoyed the relaxed feel of his naked body against hers. "I love you, too," she said.

He snored.


	28. September 1-9: Away

**[Saturday, September 1, 1990]**

Tami hated that she couldn't see Eric's first game of the season, but there was no way they could afford for her to go all the way to Nebraska, not when she had to work on Friday and study over the weekend and they had no money for her to drive there anyway.

She did, however, drive twenty-five minutes to Gretchen's apartment in Crawford. She'd kept in touch with her old roommate, and they'd remained unlikely friends. Tami was used to the girl's brusque manner by now, but still found her to be continually unpredictable. One day, when they were still living together, Gretchen had told her, "You're _real_ sweet, not _fake_ sweet. Took me a few months to figure that out. I've never met _real_ sweet before."

Tami didn't have a lot of friends, other than the neighbor couple Jacob and Rebekah, who didn't have cable television. Gretchen, however, had sprung for it now that she was making decent money at her salaried job, and Eric's game was going to be on ESPN, one of the few Bears games that would be televised this season.

Tami brought the play gym for Julie and a well-packed diaper bag. "Do you see your daddy?" Tami asked the baby as she cradled her in her arms.

"Can they even see that far at this age?" Gretchen asked. She had her feet up on the coffee table. She had a new tattoo on her left ankle, a tear drop. Tami wondered how she hid that at work.

"She can't focus on it, no," Tami said.

"Stumpy's ass looks fine in those pants, don't you think?" Gretchen asked.

"Are you two still dating?"

"If you want to call it that," Gretchen said. "We hang out sometimes. And we fuck sometimes."

"I thought you were against casual sex."

" _Promiscuous_ sex," Gretchen clarified. "Stumpy's the only guy I'm fucking."

"So he's agreed to exclusivity?" Tami asked.

"I don't know what he's up to," Gretchen said. "I don't ask about that."

"Don't you care?"

"I learned how to avoid disappointment in high school." She leaned forward. "Look at the tits on that Baylor cheerleader!"

Tami was glad Julie was not old enough to understand.

"She'd get a lot of tips at Bazookas," Gretchen said. "More than I ever did. Mine are perky, but men like them big like that. Does Eric know her?"

"I don't know. I doubt it."

"It doesn't make you jealous?" Gretchen asked. "All the girls swooning over him? Kissing his trading card at night?"

"They can kiss his trading card all they want, as long as I'm the only one who kisses him."

"Ooooh! Ouch!" Gretchen cried.

Eric had just fumbled the snap.

Tami winced. She knew he hadn't slept much Thursday night. Julie had been up at 1 AM for her feeding, and when Tami came back to bed, Eric was wide awake, staring at the ceiling, worrying about his first game. He got up with Julie for her 5 AM feeding, and Tami wondered if it was because he hadn't slept between them. When he'd left for the team bus Friday morning, he'd looked sleepy.

The game went downhill from there. The coach pulled Eric after the first quarter. "Say goodbye to Daddy," Tami told Julie, who had nodded off to sleep. Tami lay her under the play gym and sat back down.

"Well, if it's any consolation," Gretchen said, "this other quarterback they put in is sucking too."

The Bears lost, 13 to 0. The camera panned the stands at the end of the game, and Tami saw Mr. Taylor throwing his fedora down on the stands. The man really did go to every one of his son's games.

Gretchen switched off the television with the remote.

"Can I ask you something personal?" Tami asked.

"Why the hell not?"

"Are you…sort of...bisexual?" Tami had been reading in one of her psychology textbooks the theory that sexuality was on a continuum of some kind, and people might be anywhere along the two ends. "Or are your observations on women's anatomy just professional? Since you used to work at Bazookas?"

"I've got wine coolers if you want one," Gretchen said. "I keep them for guests. Hell, I'm going to try one. I've decided moderate social drinking is acceptable. You want?"

"I'd love one. Since I completely failed at breast feeding anyway."

Gretchen brought her one and handed it to her before sitting in the arm chair and popping the cap off her own against the end table. Tami guessed she didn't care about marks, so she did the same thing with hers and took a big pull.

"Let's put it this way," Gretchen said. "I'd absolutely do _you_. But I know you're heterosexual. And faithful to Eric."

Tami choked a bit on the wine cooler.

"Uncomfortable yet?" Gretchen asked.

"No," Tami lied. But then her discomfort was eclipsed by her own smile. "It's kind of nice to know someone has the hots for me. No one seems to anymore."

"Not Eric?"

"Well, I mean _besides_ Eric. I used to get a lot more attention from guys."

"You've got the attention of the hottest guy this side of the Mississippi," Gretchen said. "I wouldn't sweat it."

"And who's the hottest guy on the other side of the Mississippi?"

"Well…Stumpy's from New York." Gretchen flashed her wry smile. "You know who else is really hot?"

"Who?" Tami asked.

"Your father-in-law."

"Ewww…Gretchen, c'mon."

"What? I'm older than you."

"By _three_ years. He's old enough to be your father."

"Didn't he have Eric when he was like 15?"

"19," Tami said. "Maybe even 20."

"Nothing at all wrong with me noticing how hot he is. I swear, when Stumpy brought him to the apartment to get your furniture that one day, I could not stop looking at that man's ass."

"Gretchen, I don't want to hear this."

"And the way he stands, you know, a little heavier on one foot, kind of cocky, like he's used to wearing a heavy tool belt all the time…and working with his hands…mhmmhmmmm…."

Now Tami was beginning to think Gretchen was just trying to get a rise out of her.

"He'd be really good as one of those male strippers who dresses like a construction worker," Gretchen said. "You know the kind."

"I don't know the kind, actually. And be quiet. Julie's waking up."

Gretchen laughed. She tilted her head to look at Julie yawning and stretching on the floor. "You and Eric sure made a cute baby."

 **[Sunday, September 9]**

Eric had left Friday for another out-of-state game, this time in Arizona, and he didn't come back until midnight on Sunday. Julie had just woken up when he walked through the apartment door, and Tami was sitting on the couch, the TV on mute, the lights on low, feeding her.

Eric eased down on the couch next to her and sighed. She winced sympathetically for him. She'd listened to the game on the radio. Baylor had lost again, 13 to 34.

"At least y'all were on the score board this time," she said as she rubbed Julie's back up and down to work out a burp.

The baby let out an impressive belch, and Eric turned his head with a raised eyebrow. "See, she knows that's bullshit consolation."

"Eric," Tami said. " _You_ played well."

"When coach finally let me in. We might have won if he hadn't waited until he'd given up to put me in."

Eric had thrown a long touchdown pass in the fourth quarter.

"Well, he probably knows that now, and you'll play more next time."

"He needs to decide who his quarterback is," Eric said.

"He does like to switch y'all around a lot."

"If I were a coach, I wouldn't keep switching horses in midstream like that. It creates confusion on the team. Causes a leadership vacuum."

"You want to put her to bed?" Tami asked, not waiting for an answer, and simply handing Julie over. He hadn't seen his baby in two full days. Of course he wanted to put her to bed. While he was, Tami crawled into bed herself.

"I know I lost," he said when he came to bed later, "but can I maybe get some small reward for that spectacular pass?"

She smiled. "What kind of reward did you have in mind?"

"Just a quickie. I know you're tired. And I promise, I'll romance you tomorrow evening."

"I'll put it on my calendar, after work and dinner and before studying and Julie's first feeding of the night."

"Well block out at least forty minutes for it, babe, because there will be wine and wild flowers picked from the side of the road and deep conversation."

She laughed and slid her panties off from under her nightshirt. With a baby in the apartment, Tami was learning to appreciate the value of the quickie.


	29. Fall 1990: Superstition

**[Thursday, September 13]**

Tami had to linger after her last class to haggle about a grade with one of her professors. When she got back to the apartment that evening, Eric was already home, writing at the kitchen table, his World War II textbook open, and the babysitter gone.

"Dinner's in the fridge," he said. "Some deli brought us all foot longs after evening practice today. Julie's already asleep."

"Can you keep her up just a few minutes next time?" Tami asked as she went and retrieved the sub. "Otherwise I only get to see her in the morning on Tuesdays and Thursdays." At work, she saw her all day, and wore her for at least two hours. Julie loved to sleep in the sling. The Dean of Admissions was dropping hints that maybe it was time for her to find full-time childcare, but the Assistant Dean stuck up for her.

Tami devoured her sub. She was so hungry. From 8:15 AM until now, she'd had a single Slim Fast bar. On the plus side, she was now just seven pounds from her pre-pregnancy weight.

"I got a 60 on my World War II test," Eric said.

"What? Why?"

"Because I didn't study for it. At all. I didn't have any time, with that Arizona game."

"If you don't pass, you don't play! Passing is 70 percent."

"I know," he said. "That's why I'm going to be up late tonight re-writing all these essays. He's letting me earn ten extra credit points if I answer these four questions in two pages each." Some professors would have just given him the 70, but not Dr. Daniels. "I'll get Julie at the midnight wake up, and then come to bed."

"I'll get her at the midnight wakeup," Tami said. "I want to see her. But I'm going to bed now."

"It's 7:15."

She shrugged and kissed him. "'Nite, sugar."

 **[Saturday, September 22, 1990]**

At two and a half months old, Julie Taylor attended her first football game wearing a long-sleeve Baylor's Bears onesie. She spent most of the game in her grandfather's arms. The Bears were playing Sam Houston State on the home field in Waco. The score was tied at the half, and the sun was setting.

"I heard there's a fellow here from the Redskins today," Mr. Taylor said as the band geared up for half time. "Has his eye on a defensive back though."

"What would you ever do if your son got drafted to the Redskins?"

"Cheer for him every single time he wasn't playing the Cowboys," Mr. Taylor said.

Tami laughed. "So where is Mrs. Taylor today?"

"She's right here," he said, nodding to her.

"The _other_ Mrs. Taylor."

"Karen's in Dallas, doing an admissions interview, for UT Southwestern Medical School. She'll nail it. She wants to start in the spring."

"It doesn't bother you to move?" Tami asked him.

"There's nothing tying me to Tyler anymore. My parents are dead. My sister is in Oklahoma. Eric is never coming back. I've wanted to expand my handyman business for a while. Might as well hang my shingle out in Dallas."

Eric's father seemed a little old school to her – the kind of man who pulled out chairs and took coats and ordered for his date. The kind of man who wouldn't want to be out-earned by his wife. "It doesn't bother you that she'll probably be making more money than you one day?" Tami regretted the question the moment it was out. It was a forward thing to ask it.

But Mr. Taylor only smiled. She couldn't quite interpret that smile. It seemed secretive and indulgent and amused and a little bit condescending all at once.

Julie stirred and cried.

Tami reached into the diaper bag and pulled out a bottle. Julie had not yet had her usual 7 PM feeding. No wonder she was hungry. "You want to give Julie her bottle?" she asked.

"Oh no," her father-in-law said, "that's _women's work_."

Tami stood, a bit frozen, uncertain if he was serious. He laughed and plucked the bottle from her hand.

Julie must have been a good luck charm, because the Bears won 13-9, with Eric scoring a rushing touchdown in the last quarter.

 **[Saturday, October 6, 1990]**

Because she had to study for a test, Tami had opted not to drive to Lubbock for Eric's game against Texas Tech, which the Bears had won, but she was in the bleachers for the home game against Houston today, as was Julie and Mr. Taylor.

"Where is the other Mrs. Taylor?" Tami asked. She was starting to find it a bit odd that Karen was hardly ever at the games with him.

"Working. She works a lot of weekends, you know."

The Bears lost by a 16 point margin.

"You didn't dress Julie in that Baylor onesie," Mr. Taylor said. "I think it was good luck. You better do that next time."

 **[Saturday, October 13, 1990]**

Waco played another home game, this time against SMU, and Tami _did_ dress Julie in the Baylor Bears onesie.

"Mrs. Taylor working again?" she asked her father-in-law at half time.

"Yep."

"Are you two….all right?" Tami asked. She would truly hate for her father-in-law to finally marry a woman only to have the marriage end in divorce.

"Can I be honest with you, Tami?"

"Yes," she said, nervous to hear what he was about to say.

"Karen….well…she doesn't like football."

"Oh!" Tami gasped in surprise. "How does that work? Between you two?"

"The way it works is she pursues her interests, and I pursue mine. And when I'm watching football at home, she cuddles with me and reads a book."

Tami had never much liked football until she was dating Eric. She'd pretended to like it when she was dating Mo, but she hadn't, not really. Eric's enthusiasm was catching, though.

Mr. Taylor looked down at Julie, whom he had sitting in his lap, leaned against his chest. "She holds her head up really well. I thought they didn't do that for another month."

"Eric thinks she's a genius," Tami said.

"He's probably right. I mean, she does have my genes."

Tami smiled and asked him if he wanted some nachos, because she wanted a snack. "No, but get me a beer."

"I can't," she said. "I can in a few weeks, though." She was on the older side for a junior. Then again, so was Eric. He would also turn 21 this year, although in December.

"Ah, the big 21. Any birthday party plans?"

"I don't think so. It's a Saturday. Eric has a game in Houston. I might drive to see him play, but…it's hard. Six hours round trip, with the baby…and a paper due that Tuesday."

"Work, school, the baby, football," Mr. Taylor said. "I told you it's a lot to chew on. Something has to give."

"Well, what gives is the away games. And my birthday. We'll go out to dinner that Sunday. That's good enough."

She returned with nachos, just in time for the kick-off for the second half. Julie was resting on her grandfather's shoulder now, her cheek mushed against him, her lips puffed out and gurgling as she slept. She woke up when Mr. Taylor shouted as Eric scored a rushing touchdown.

"He's going to get a reputation for that!" Mr. Taylor said excitedly. "How many is that now since he's been on the Bears? And how rarely do quarterbacks score rushing touchdowns?"

Mr. Taylor no doubt meant them to be rhetorical questions, and fully expected Tami to know the answers, but she didn't. She just knew that Eric had done well.

Baylor massacred SMU 52 to 17.

"Do you really think it's Julie's onesie?" Tami asked Mr. Taylor.

"Well, I wouldn't rule it out."

 **[Saturday, October 20, 1990]**

Tami made the drive to A&M for the Battle of the Brazos. It was less than a two hour drive one way, and the Bears and Aggies had a longstanding rivalry that had begun with a riot during Baylor's 1926 homecoming. Pranks had ensued ever since, each time the two teams faced off. Last night, some of the Bears had spray painted the statue of the A&M president green – Baylor colors. Tami could neither confirm nor deny whether or not Eric Taylor was one of the vandals, but he'd left with the team bus Friday afternoon.

Julie had slept on the car ride down, and she was now awake, decked out in her Baylor onesie, and fussing a little. Tami took her usual seat beside Mr. Taylor and promptly handed the baby over to him. She needed the break. Eric was an involved father, when he could be - when he was home, which wasn't often these days.

Sometimes Tami resented how much of the weight seemed to fall on her, and at other times she thought of it as investment in their future. If he made the NFL, Mr. Taylor was right, that would pay off for her too. And Julie. The girl could go to any private elementary and high school they wanted, any college…she would have the world at her feet.

Sometimes Tami fantasized about life as the wife of NFL player. The house they would have, the cars, the parties, the hot tub, the pool… And sometimes she feared what life would be like as the wife of an NFL player. The travel, the pressure, the prying media, and the increased sexual temptation Eric would have to combat as more and more women threw themselves at him.

Mr. Taylor bounced Julie gently in his arms until she settled into a coo.

Mo McArnold was on the field today for the Aggies, on and off. Eric fumbled once, and Mo mock saluted him when he did.

"I've never liked that McArnold kid," Mr. Taylor mumbled.

"You know him?" Tami asked.

"Don't you? He went to high school with y'all. He was on the team with Eric."

"Yeah…I…kind of dated him." She thought Mr. Taylor knew that, given that Mo and Eric had gotten in a fight over her, but perhaps Eric had never told him the _reason_ for the fight.

"Kind of?" Mr. Taylor asked.

"I guess you could say he was my high school sweetheart, before Eric. We dated the summer before my junior year until about Christmas of my senior year."

"But then your taste in young men improved?"

Tami chuckled.

The game was intense and eventually ended in a rare tie, 20-20.

Mr. Taylor looked at Julie. "You know what I think happened here?" he said. "That button came unsnapped." He snapped it together. He shook a finger at the baby. "Keep your onesie on next time, my little princess."

 **[Saturday, October 27]**

Mr. Taylor kept an eye on Julie's onesie to make sure it stayed snapped during the game against TCU. It was only an hour and half drive, so Tami had made the trek. Karen had joined her husband today. The Harris College of Nursing and Health Sciences at TCU was her alma matter.

"I'm sorry that my boy is whipping your school," Mr. Taylor told her, "but it must needs be done."

Karen laughed and kissed him. "You raised a fine football player," she told him.

"But one of my many talents," he assured her.

"Oh, I'm aware of your many talents, darling." Karen winked at him.

Baylor won, 27 to 21.

"I told you," Mr. Taylor said to Tami. "Keep that onesie snapped tight."

 **[Saturday, November 10]**

It might have been the onesie, or it might have been the fact that Julie was sleeping seven hours in a row at night now, or it might have been that Arkansas sucked, but Baylor won 34-3 in the home game at Floyd Casey Stadium. Eric made multiple touchdown passes.

"I hope someone was paying attention to him today," Mr. Taylor said. "Tami?"

She'd nodded off in her seat. She jerked her head up.

"You getting enough rest?" he asked her.

"I have a test on Tuesday. I was up late studying last night. I'm a little behind in the reading."

Mr. Taylor looked at her with concern. She wanted to tell him, _Don't lecture me about biting off more than I can chew._ She wanted to tell him, but she was nodding off to sleep again.


	30. November 17: A Birthday Surprise

**[Saturday, November 17, 1990]**

The game against Rice in Houston was at noon. Tami decided not to make the trip. She was tired, and she had so much school work. Besides, the game was being televised on cable.

"This is kind of a lame way to spend your 21st birthday," Gretchen told her. "With your straight edge ex-roommate, watching football on TV, and only drinking one wine cooler."

Tami snapped shut Julie's Baylor onesie. Julie was getting too big for it. The snaps kept popping open. "Are you still seeing Stumpy?" she asked.

Gretchen shrugged. "Define seeing."

"Sex? Dinner? Something in between?" Tami asked.

"Yes," Gretchen said. "All three. Sometimes on the same day."

Tami laughed. "But you haven't insisted he go steady with you?"

"That's a romantic notion," Gretchen said, "asking a guy to go steady. He's going to do what he's going to do."

"Yes, but you can make it clear what _you're_ going to do if he does what you don't _want_ him to do."

"Your boyfriend almost scored a touchdown. Pay attention."

"He's my husband, Gretchen."

"Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting." She shook her head. "He has a nice ass, especially in those pants."

"Hey, that's _my_ ass," Tami insisted.

"I'm just and objective observer," Gretchen said. "I notice these things. Nice biceps, too. And fantastic eyes."

"Yep," Tami agreed. " _My_ biceps. _My_ eyes."

"Stumpy's got a nice, sizeable cock."

"I really did not require that bit of information, Gretchen."

"How's Eric's?" she asked.

"I'm fully satisfied," Tami said. "Beyond that I really don't find it necessary to discuss details."

"It's not the most attractive organ, is it?"

Tami laughed. Her cheeks felt hot from flushing.

"Seriously," Gretchen said. "Why is that? Why didn't God make that thing more appealing? I mean, when you think of all the things you find sexiest about Eric, how far down the list is that?"

"It's probably not in my top five," Tami admitted. "But it serves its purpose."

Gretchen nodded at the TV. "Watch. Your man just threw the ball."

The game was close, but Baylor won, 17 to 16.

Could it really be the onesie?

 **[*]**

Tami put Julie to bed at 7:30 that night. Eric had taken his own truck to Houston instead of the team bus so that he could leave as soon as the game was over, and at 8:00 PM, there was a knock on the door. Tami thought perhaps he had forgotten his keys. She supposed he would want victory sex, which was why she'd left her knee-length skirt and button-down blouse on instead of changing into sweats and a t-shirt. She knew he liked to undo buttons and slide his hands up under skirts.

When she answered the door, three voices shouted, "Surprise!"

Eric was standing there, holding a boquet of helium balloons. Sarah sported a cake, and Joey held a bottle of wine in each hand, one of those party blowers between his lips. He blew, and it let out a loud squee.

"Shh! You'll wake the baby!" Tami insisted, though she also grinned, pleased to see her old high school friends. She was even more pleased that Eric had arranged such a gift for her.

"We're getting you drunk tonight," Sarah said as she walked in. "And I'm crashing on the floor in the nursery, and I'll tend to Julie if need be." Sarah had met Julie only once, on a weekend visit in August.

"And I'm crashing on the couch," Joey said.

"And I'm taking my beautiful wife to bed," Eric said, " _after_ we celebrate her birthday."

"Red?" Joey asked, holding up one bottle and then the other "or sparkling white first?"

"Sparkling white," Tami said. "Let's toast me."

"Toast of the town," Eric told her. "That's my bride."

Once the wine was poured, presents were unwrapped. Joey had gotten her a gift certificate to Chili's, a tired joke, since she and Sarah used to work there in high school and never wanted to eat there back then, but Tami would use it now. It would be nice to have someone else cook _and_ serve her _and_ clean up.

Sarah had gotten her a sexy piece of lingerie, which caused Eric both to blush and grin.

"Because people don't think about it," Sarah said, "now that you're a mom, but you're still a sexual being, you know? You're gorgeous. As ever."

"You're the best friend ever," Tami told her.

"Absolutely," Eric agreed, and Tami smacked him on the shoulder.

"Not for the lingerie," Tami insisted, "but for making me feel beautiful."

"Oh, I'll make you feel beautiful, babe. Just give me a chance." Eric kissed her.

"No PDA!" Joey insisted.

"Are you two still dating?" Tami asked. Joey and Sarah hadn't touched since they'd been in this apartment.

"We're on a break," Joey said. "But I'm sure we'll get back together again soon. Third time's a charm!"

Sarah shook her head at Tami.

"Just need to get rid of that law school student she's been dating," Joey said, "and we're good to go."

Eric gave Tami a gift certificate for a massage. That was an indulgence they could ill afford. For her 21st, however, she would accept it.

"But use it in January," Eric told her. "When football season's over."

 **[*]**

Tami didn't understand why Eric kept shushing her. She was just expressing how incredibly good it felt to have him moving inside her. She had to announce that. She had to SCREAM it. Because it felt so good. So very, very, very, very –

He covered her mouth with his hand when she came, arching her back and crying out to the heavens. He slid his hand off when the cry faded into just a final, low moan.

For a moment, she thought she saw actual fireworks going off, but then she realized it was just the ceiling fan, cutting the overhead light on and off.

Then she realized the fan wasn't the only thing spinning. The room was spinning a little too. Just a little. "How much of that wine did I drink?"

He curled up beside her, one hand on her bare hip. "We each had one glass of the white. Joey and I also had one glass of the red."

"I thought we split it _all_ four ways."

"No, babe." He laughed. "You had two glasses of white and three glasses of red."

"Did you get to cum?" she asked. She couldn't remember him groaning, but then, she'd been pretty busy screaming _Yes!_ beneath his hand. "I _know_ I did. And _how_." She was still reeling a little.

"I'm good." He kissed her cheek. "Happy Birthday, Tami."

"How am I going to church tomorrow?"

"We're not going to church tomorrow. Joey and Sarah are handling the baby, and we're sleeping in. When you wake up, we're making love again, if you feel up to it. And then I'm taking you out for a birthday brunch, just you and me."

"Oh. That sounds better than church." She rolled to her side and snuggled her head against his shoulder.

She closed her eyes. The light at the back of her eyelids spun just a little, and then it stopped.

She felt the stress of the fall semester draining out of her, as if she were a sieve, keeping all the goodness inside. She was smiling when she fell asleep.

 **[Sunday, November 18, 1990]**

Tami ordered a mimosa at brunch. They'd gone to a sit down restaurant, with a heated porch (not that they needed it on this gorgeous 60 degree morning) and white tablecloths. A pretty grove of trees lined the opposite end of the porch, and the sun was shining.

Eric smirked at her over his menu. "A little hair of the dog?" he asked.

"I'm twenty-one now," she said. "I had to do it just because I can." She took a sip. "Not as good as your dad's, though." She closed her menu and folded her hands over it. "Maybe he was right."

"My dad? About what?"

"About me biting off more than I could chew. I've been falling asleep in class. Losing my edge at work. I fell asleep at your _game_ the other week. Maybe I shouldn't sign up for the spring semester. Maybe I should just work and stay home with the baby."

Eric put his menu down. "You told me it was extremely important to you not to break up your education. That you need to keep the momentum."

"Maybe I was wrong."

He shook his head. "No, Tami Taylor is always right."

She smiled.

He reached across the table and took her hand. "This has been the hardest part of it. She'll get older, sleep longer. Spring and summer will be lighter seasons for me. I'll help more around the apartment. I'll work part-time and bring some money in for this family."

"Maybe we shouldn't be going into debt for my tuition next semester. I wasn't going to move to Waco in the first place to avoid loans, to escape that debt trap…and now I'm throwing us right in it – with a baby."

"That was different," he assured her. "You weren't going to take that risk for some…boyfriend. But I'm your husband now. We're in this for life. We're in this together. And if I make it to the NFL…" He smiled. "We'll pay all that debt off in my first season."

She pulled her hand away when the waitress came to take their orders.

"We can do this, Tami," Eric assured her. "We _will_ do this. We can be a family, have a family, and still pursue our dreams. Both our dreams. Because neither of us in this alone."


	31. Thanksgiving - Christmas 1990

**[Thursday, November 22, 1990]**

Mr. Taylor's wife was accepted to UT Southwestern medical school for the following spring, and so the couple moved to Dallas. They invited Tami and Eric to their new house for Thanksgiving dinner.

Over the phone, Tami's mother grumbled, "I thought you'd have Thanksgiving at the parsonage."

"Dallas is an hour closer than Tyler," Tami told her, "and we can only afford to take the one day off. Eric needs to be at practice Friday, and I have to work. We'll see y'all for Christmas."

As Eric drove to his father's house on Thanksgiving morning, he said, "This in-law holiday juggle is going to be fun over the next twenty years."

"What happens in twenty years?" Tami asked. "Do they die, or do we stop going to holiday dinners?"

"I just thought it was a nice round number."

The Taylor's new house was a three-bedroom, two-bathroom, one-story rambler in a semi-urban neighborhood on the outskirts of Dallas. The house had a small, fenced-in back yard, a two-car garage Mr. Taylor had converted to a shop, and a separate breakfast nook and formal dining room. Tami had no idea why a childless couple needed so many bedrooms, but perhaps Mr. Taylor was anticipating many overnight guests. After all, Eric's aunt and uncle were staying with him tonight, and along with them, their three-year-old daughter.

Julie became a sort of plaything to Eric's little cousin, who repeatedly tried to dress the baby in her doll's hats until Karen announced, during halftime, that dinner was served.

Over dinner, Eric and Mr. Taylor discussed the NFL draft. "So you aren't going to declare your intention to enter the draft early?" Mr. Taylor asked. "The deadline is January."

"I think I need another year to play and improve," Eric told him.

"You want to get picked higher, Eric, I understand that. It means a better contract. But since the strikes in the 80s, even the lowest rookie contract pays very well these days. Certainly better than in my day. The important thing is to get your foot in the door, and if you do that early, even at the bottom, you'll have a better chance to work your way up than if you wait another year."

"I don't think you understand, Dad. It's not likely I'll _get_ my foot in the door now. I've been told the odds are not good that I'll be drafted this year. Next year, my odds will be better. If I apply now, I'll have to _renounce_ the rest of my college eligibility. What if I don't get picked? I'd be throwing away my last year to play. I'd be throwing away my _full_ scholarship. I'm one year from a B.A., Dad. A college degree! It's something to fall back on. Whatever happens, I'll have that to fall back on. So if I don't make it to the NFL as planned, I don't end up - "

"- Like your father, you mean?" Mr. Taylor asked. "A mere working-class man?"

"That's not what I meant," Eric muttered.

Mr. Taylor looked at Tami as though he suspected she had talked Eric out of declaring early, but she hadn't. She'd simply agreed with his opinion that it was better to wait until after his senior season.

Eric followed his father's gaze. "We discuss things," Eric said. "I take Tami's opinion into account. But I make my _own_ decisions about football. This is _my_ decision, Dad. I've talked it over with the coaches, and they think I'm doing the smart thing too. I'll have a better chance _next_ spring."

"Very well," Mr. Taylor said. "It's just…If I had done things a little differently, if I had moved earlier in my own semi-pro career, if – "

"- This is _my_ life," Eric insisted. " _My_ life. I'm not finishing _your_ life for you. You have a life, Dad." He glanced at Karen. "And a pretty good one, too, if you'd just open your eyes and see it." Eric stood and tossed his cloth napkin on the table, next to his china plate. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Mr. Taylor sat in his chair, drumming his fingertips against the tabletop.

"Well," Eric's aunt May said, "I think this turkey you made, Karen, is about the most tender meat I've ever tasted. Did you baste it in something special?"

"Oh, I just – "

"- I _do_ see you, Karen," Mr. Taylor interrupted his wife. "And I love our life together."

"I know, darling," she said, and glanced around the table uncomfortably. "Perhaps you should go talk to Eric."

Mr. Taylor rose and left the dinning room.

He and Eric returned less than ten minutes later, their voices trailing down the hallway as they approached.

"And he says, the quarterback sneak!" Mr. Taylor concluded.

Eric cackled.

"So you get it?" Mr. Taylor asked. "It wasn't the milkman after all."

"Yeah, I get it," Eric said as he entered the dining room, smiled at Tami, and resumed his seat.

Later, when they were headed back to Waco, Tami asked, "How did you and your dad make up that fast? You've never made up with _me_ that fast after a fight."

Eric shrugged. "We're guys. But I better make the draft my senior year, or I'll _never_ hear the end of it."

 **[Saturday, November 24]**

Baylor lost the last game of the season against the Texas Longhorns at the home stadium in Waco.

Mr. Taylor looked down at Julie, who was snuggled against his chest, all fifteen pounds of her. "You're wearing the onesie," he said. "And it's all snapped up."

"I had to buy a new one," Tami confessed. "In the next size up. She outgrew the old one."

"Do you still have it?" he asked with alarm.

"Yeah, it's in the giveaway bag."

"Well don't give it away!" he insisted. "You should make it into a bandanna, for next season."

Tami was about to tease her father-in-law for his superstition, but then she considered that Baylor _had_ lost today. And, really….it couldn't _hurt_. "I just might do that."

 **[Sunday, November 25]**

Tami gave the onesie to her mother when she visited on Sunday and asked her to make something out of it. Mom had once sewn their clothes, after all, when they were little.

"Bandanna, huh?" Tami's mom asked. "Garret thinks this onesie was responsible for Baylor's victories?" She shook her head. "Popish superstition."

"He's Episcopalian, Mom, not Catholic. And he probably goes to a Baptist church with Karen."

"I doubt he goes to church at all. And he suggested a bandanna? How very silly." She seemed to think for a moment. "Let's make a scarf. It's cold during playoffs."

 **[Tuesday, December 18, 1990]**

Final grades came out for the fall semester, and neither Eric nor Tami did as well as they had hoped they would. Eric had earned 12 credits, with a C in his World War II class, a B in Sports Medicine, and an A in both P.E. classes. Tami had earned 15 credits, with a C+ and a B- in her core classes and Bs in her psychology classes. As a consequence, she was not offered a renewal of her partial academic scholarship for the spring semester of her junior year, which required that she maintain a minimum 3.2 GPA.

Once again, she wondered if Mr. Taylor was right, if she had bit off more than she could chew.

To add insult to injury, she had been told she could no longer bring Julie to work. Julie was rolling over now, from front to back and back to front again. In fact, she'd already learned to do a log roll to get from one end of the room to another. She was dangerous.

Eric and Tami scoured the spring course catalog and tried to find a way that one of them could always be home with Julie, but it just wasn't possible. Eric was going back to work at the bookstore on weekends. Tami was changing her hours at work. They did what they could, but they figured out they were still going to need a babysitter for 20 hours a week. Their savings was down to only $3,000. Tami wasn't sure how that had happened.

"Tuition is going up to $2,900 this spring," Tami said. "And I have to pay _all_ of that this time."

"So we take out more student loans," Eric told her. "And we try to spend less money next semester."

 **[Thursday, December 20]**

Tami's mother had the baby for the night in Tyler. Eric drove Tami to a bed and breakfast on Lake Tyler.

"I thought we were going to try to cut back on our spending," she said.

"Just one night, babe. It's our _anniversary_. We survived the first year. We have to celebrate. It's a cake walk from here on out."

"It's also your 21st birthday in a couple days."

"Two birds, one stone," he said. "That's frugal, right?"

She glanced around where they stood, taking in the scenic inn, the heated, outdoor pool, and the lake. "It's very romantic," she said. "I like it."

"It's a great place for a birthday blow job."

She shook her head.

"I'm just thinking of ways we can cut costs," he assured her. "And that gift won't cost you anything but a little time."

She kissed his ear, took his hand, and said, "Let's check in."

 **[Tuesday, December 25, 1990]**

Eric and Tami went to Christmas dinner at the parsonage. Mr. Taylor and his wife drove down from Dallas to join them. "The Taylors get two holidays with you," Tami's mom grumbled.

" _You_ invited them," Tami reminded her.

Pastor John insisted on reading the Gospel accounts of Christ's birth in Luke and Matthew before dinner.

"You have a great reading voice," Karen told him. "You could do broadcast, if you wanted."

Mom looked at her husband with a hint of admiration.

Shelley would be graduating high school in May, but despite all of Tami's efforts, she couldn't talk her into college. "I'm taking a gap year," Shelley said over dinner.

"What's that?" Eric asked.

"It's where you do something _real_ for a year," Shelley said, "instead of just submitting to becoming a cog in the wheel."

She'd quit the cheerleading squad at the end of the semester, even though she had reached a competitive level and might have had a very real chance at a full scholarship. She was wearing a black beret now, and hanging out with the arty kids.

"What's going on with Shelley?" Tami asked Pastor John during a private moment, when she caught him alone in the kitchen, escaping the talk of football that filled the living room. He was wiping down the countertops.

"She wants to backpack across Europe for a year after she graduates," he said.

"What? Alone?"

"My son Jeremy and his wife Jen have volunteered to accompany her if she insists on it."

Tami almost never thought of the fact that she technically had a stepbrother. She had only seen Jeremy once since her mother had married his father. "Aren't they on mission?"

"They've left the mission in South America. The church there is self-sufficient now. They're trying to decide on their next life move. They want to see Europe too."

"So you're encouraging Shelley?" Tami asked.

Pastor John draped the washcloth over the faucet. "Tami, I'm making sure she's safe when she does what she's going to do anyway. Jeremy has a lot of experience in foreign countries."

"She _has_ to go to college."

"She has to walk her own path," he said. "It will wind its way home, eventually. God is like a magnet. He draws all things to Himself."

Their dad would have whipped Shelley into shape, Tami was sure, instead of talking of paths and magnets. "Four years ago, she was on target," Tami said.

"Four years ago," Pastor John reminded her, "you weren't."

Tami shook her head. She felt like he was going to suddenly grow long hair, put a flower in it, and crack out a guitar on the altar. He was over fifty. Why was she the adult? "Aren't you even going to try to convince her to go to college?"

"The older I get," Pastor John said, "the more I realize how little power I have."

Tami sighed and left him in the kitchen. She sought out Shelley, drew her aside, and gave her an earful about this gap year plan. Shelley was unmoved.

When Tami returned to the living room, Karen was telling Mr. Taylor, "We need to hit the road if we're going to get back to Dallas before dark, darling."

"Karen has to work tomorrow," Mr. Taylor said, rising from the arm chair and holding a hand out to his wife. "Thank you so much, Barbara, for your hospitality and extraordinary cooking."

Tami's mother took Julie off her lap and set her on the floor and rose to bid the Taylors goodbye.

Eric and Tami walked them to their car. Mr. Taylor slipped Tami an envelope. "Merry Christmas," he said. "Remember we're closer now. Dallas is just an hour and a half from Waco. I can usually set my own schedule. If there's an emergency, the babysitter cancels the night before, whatever…you need someone to watch Julie for a day, just call."

"Thank you, Mr. Taylor."

"Garrett," he insisted.

Tami waited until the car was driving away to look inside the envelope.

"What is it?" Eric asked.

She pulled out the wad of $50 bills and counted them. There were 12. One for each day of Christmas. "Wow!" she exclaimed. "Business must have gotten off to a great start in Dallas!"

"We've got to stop accepting money from our families," Eric said. "We've got to learn to make it on our own."

Tami put an arm around his waist. "No one makes it on their own," she said. "And we'll do the same thing for Julie one day."

"Julie is _not_ getting knocked up and married at 20," Eric insisted.

"I meant we'll help her with college!" Tami shook her head and turned back toward the parsonage.


	32. Winter - Easter 1991

**[January 1991]**

January was a month of firsts, one after another after another.

Julie sat up all by herself, without support. Eric saw it, while he was studying in the living room and Julie was on the floor. Tami missed it, because she was in class.

Julie also got up on all fours and rocked while Tami was making dinner one night and Eric was out running routes with Stumpy.

But Eric got to see her crawl the first time, while Tami was at work.

 **[February 1991]**

Tami's grades were improving. She was determined to earn back her academic scholarship, and it was easier to study now that Julie was sleeping through the night. Now that Julie was being babysat while Tami worked, Tami could also use the occasional downtime at work to do her homework. She always got the job done faster than the deans expected.

Julie was crawling now, like a jitterbug, fast across the floor, and it made things more difficult for them. They finally cracked out those baby gates they'd gotten at the shower, and blocked her off from the kitchen and hallway. Outlet covers went onto the plugs, and corner guards on the edge of the coffee table.

"We didn't have all this safety gear when you were a baby," Tami's mother told her when she came to babysit one Saturday. "And you turned out just fine."

"What are you afraid of?" Mr. Taylor asked when he came to babysit one Sunday afternoon so Tami and Eric could get out for a belated Valentine's date. "That she's going to crawl over at seven months old and stick a fork in the socket?"

That evening, when they came back from their date, Eric's father said, "She pulled up. On the coffee table. Just pulled herself straight up to a standing position."

"They don't do that at seven months," Eric said. "The books says around nine months."

"Do you think I'm lying?" Mr. Taylor asked.

"No," Eric said. "It's just neither of us has seen her do that, or even look like she's going to do that."

"Well she did," Mr. Taylor insisted. "For her granddaddy."

 **[Tuesday, March 5 1991]**

Tami saw Julie pull up first, one morning while Eric was already at practice. Eric still refused to believe until he saw it with his own eyes.

"What are we going to do when she starts climbing?" Tami asked.

Julie seemed to think _No!_ meant _Try again!_ Tami couldn't imagine how much work the girl was going to be when she could reach things.

 **[Saturday, March 23, 1991]**

The Bears lost their spring game, but Eric had a blast playing. He was like a kid again, all smiles. That evening, while they were sharing a bottle of wine and watching TV, Julie pulled up once again on the coffee table.

"That's my girl!" Eric told her. "Ahead of schedule!" He looked at Tami. "What sport do you think she'll play?"

"Maybe she'll be a cheerleader."

"No," he said.

Tami laughed. "It's going to be fun when she starts dating."

When Julie was down for the night, Eric and Tami made playful love. As he held her afterwards, he said, "This year is shaping up to be better than last year. Think marriage just keeps getting better and better?"

"I think it's probably more like a roller coaster," Tami said. "Up and down. That's what my mom told me anyway." Alas, Tami had no other source of marriage advice, and Eric's father hadn't been married much longer than his son had.

Eric rolled to his side and spooned with her. "Then I guess we better buckle in tight."

 **[Sunday, March 31, 1991]**

Tami's mother was not happy when Tami told her they were going to Dallas for Easter.

"Garret and Karen don't even go to church regularly!" she'd said on the phone.

"Well, we're all going on Easter. They _do_ have a church in Dallas they go to."

"When they _feel_ like it," Mom had grumbled.

But Tami and Eric went to Dallas anyway.

Tami was a little intimidated by the Easter service. She'd never been to a church so big before, right in the heart of the city, packed with people, stain glass windows looming all around. She'd expected a Baptist church, since that was Karen's denomination, but it was Episcopalian. Mr. Taylor had apparently been allowed to pick.

Tami refused to drop Julie off at the large nursery before the service when the girl started crying. So instead, Julie had gone from arms to arms during the service, passed like a football between Eric and Mr. Taylor and Tami and Karen.

Eric knew what he was doing – he'd been confirmed Episcopalian, after all – and Karen had apparently learned the ropes, but Tami was quite at a loss. People were standing and kneeling and standing and turning to pages in a book that wasn't the Bible and saying all sorts of words in response to the preacher that she couldn't find. Eric kept holding his book out to her and pointing to bolded words. She felt like she had at her first dress rehearsal her freshman year in high school, when she'd kept forgetting her lines. And every now and then, people would randomly cross themselves.

When it came time for communion, she just sat in the pew instead of going up to kneel before the altar. "You don't have to be Episcopalian," Mr. Taylor told her. "It's open communion." But Tami shook her head and stayed put. In her childhood church, they drank wine from plastic shot glasses that were passed down the pew in a tin. They didn't kneel before the altar and share a common cup. She was sure she'd do something horribly embarrassing, like drop the wafer on the ground, or eat it before she was supposed to eat it, or get wine poured all down her Easter dress. Eric took Julie up with him for a blessing, and the girl seized the priest's stole when he put a hand on her head. The priest smiled and worked it loose from her hand before moving down the line. If Tami was embarrassed by her daughter's action, she wasn't for long, because a little, pre-school age boy who had received a blessing, as his family left the altar, shouted, "But I want the snacks too! Why can't I have the snack!"

Tami was more relaxed during lunch at the Taylor's house. After the Easter meal, they all settled into the living room, and Julie took off like a light on her hands and knees. Mr. Taylor went around closing doors to keep her out of the bedrooms and bathrooms and the study, since he didn't have any gates. He lay a dinning room chair across the entrance to the kitchen. Three times he had to tell Julie, "No! Don't touch!" when she tried to pull all the books off of the bottom shelf of his living room bookcase. Eventually, he just plucked up his granddaughter and set her in his lap in the armchair, opened a book about monkeys, and pointed to pictures.

"How are you handling the school, work, mothering balance?" Karen asked Tami. "Has it been hard for you?"

"It hasn't been easy," Tami said. "But we're managing."

Karen glanced at Eric's father. "I guess it would be easier if only _one_ of you was in school, and one of you had a flexible work schedule, though."

Was she suggesting that Tami delay college? Had Mr. Taylor put her up to the suggestion? She looked from Karen to Mr. Taylor and back to Karen. They were smiling knowingly at each other. Tami realized this wasn't about her. Mr. Taylor was the one with the flexible schedule who wasn't in school. Karen was the one who was in school and working. And Karen had not been drinking wine with lunch. The fact had not leapt out at Tami until now. She turned her gaze to Eric, who was on the couch next to her sipping a beer, completely oblivious of what Tami had just figured out.

Eric caught her staring at him and gave her a look that asked, "What?"

Mr. Taylor cleared his throat. "Eric," he said. "This should, I hope, be less intimidating than learning you were going to be a father."

Eric looked at his dad and blinked.

"You're going to be a big brother."

"What?" Eric asked.

"Karen's pregnant."

"Pregnant? As in…" Eric shook his head. "My daughter's going to have an aunt or uncle?"

Mr. Taylor nodded.

"Who's _younger_ than she is?"

"Stranger things have been known to happen," Mr. Taylor told him.

"Congratulations," Tami told them, hastening in a positive word between Eric's wide-eyed exclamations.

"You'll be 60 when the kid is in college!" Eric said.

"There are men who _become_ fathers at 60, Eric. I'm not ancient. I'm in great shape." He smiled at his wife. "So is Karen."

"Well…congratulations, I guess."

"Eric!" Tami hissed.

"Congratulations," he said, more enthusiastically.

Later, Tami took Julie for a walk in the stroller, and Mr. Taylor joined her. The neighborhood was more diverse than Tyler, and the houses were closer together. Passing neighbors said hello and Happy Easter. In a couple of blocks, they passed a small park with a playground. Two blocks later, they were beyond the houses and into an area with shops. It must be nice, she thought, to be able to walk from your house to a convenience store or a deli.

"Let's turn around and head back," Mr. Taylor said. "A couple more blocks down, the neighborhood is not so nice."

On the way back, Tami couldn't help but tease her father-in-law, somewhat affectionately, but also somewhat in retaliation. "You don't think you're biting off more than you can chew? Having a baby while Karen is in medical school?"

"Well, Tami, I'm established. Business is good here in Dallas. After combining the two houses, we have no mortgage. I can somewhat arrange my schedule as I like, and we'll hire part-time help as needed." Julie gurgled in her stroller and widened her eyes at a passing butterfly. Mr. Taylor smiled at her. "Karen wanted to try for a child before it was too late, but she didn't want to give up her dreams, either. I can't blame her for that."

"What about you? I presume you wanted a baby also?" She found the phrasing odd - Karen wanted.

He took off his fedora. He looked like a classic movie star in that hat and his Easter suit. "Eric took up so much of my time when he was growing up. I was always running plays with him, helping him with his homework, carting him to and from Pee Wee practices, going to his games, playing with him, taking him to movies, trying to fill the void left by his mother..." He toyed with the rim of his hat as they walked. "I thought I couldn't wait until I had more time to myself. And then, once I did, I hardly knew what to _do_ with myself. I hate not being busy, and while it's nice for Karen and I to be able to do what we want when we want...it's also kind of...empty."

"A baby is pretty exhausting work," Tami reminded him. "And you're busy as a parent, but you're not…there are stretches of time where you can't go anywhere or do anything. Because the baby is napping or whatever."

Mr. Taylor chuckled. "You know I've been down this road before. Long before you, Tami."

"You lived with your mother and sister, in the beginning." He wasn't exactly home alone with the baby, the way she often was with Julie, the way he might now be when Karen was in classes.

"Yes. With my _slipping_ mother, who needed almost as much care as a baby. And my _working_ sister. May and I shared expenses. She helped some, yes, but she was busy with work and our mother, and it wasn't as though she raised Eric and I just went about my life. I've changed more than a few diapers in my time."

Julie let out a loud, flatulent sound. "Want to change this one?" Tami asked.

"No thank you."

 **[*]**

Tami had to make the drive back to Waco later that afternoon. Eric was too dazed. "The baby is due the first week of November," he said at last. "My dad's going to miss half of my last season."

She dropped a hand from the wheel to his knee. "You'll just have to learn to share the spotlight, sugar. There's a whole chapter about sibling jealousy in one of my psych textbooks. You can read it tonight, if you want."

She looked at his frowning face and laughed.

"It's just weird," he said. "Isn't it weird? I'll have a daughter who is older than my own brother or sister. Do you think they planned it?"

"They've probably been trying since they got married. That's probably why your dad knew how a pregnancy test worked when he saw mine."

Eric shook his head. "Why would they plan to have a kid while she's going back to medical school? That's just foolish. Especially after all he said to you about biting off more than you can chew."

She shrugged. "They're a lot more established than us, that's for sure."

He glanced at her. His eyes were defensive and worried and a little bit hurt. "I'm going to establish myself, Tami. I'm going to do right by this family."

She smiled at him. "I know you are, sugar."

"I'm going to play my best next season. I'm going to get drafted."

"I know you'll establish yourself," she assured him. "In _or_ out of the NFL."

"Why do you keep saying things like that? Do you think I won't make it?"

She dropped a hand from the wheel and put it on his knee. "You're a great player, Eric. And you're always working to improve your game. The NFL would be foolish to pass you over. I just want you to know that if ever something happens to prevent you from making it, I believe in you just the same."

He covered her hand with his own and squeezed.


	33. May - June 1991: Fantasy Football

**[Sunday, April 21, 1991]**

Julie took her first steps on draft day, in Gretchen's apartment. She was a little over nine months old, and she'd been standing with her hands on the coffee table, squealing and pounding its surface, when a flash of colors on ESPN caught her attention. She took three steps toward the TV and fell down.

Tami cheered and clapped while Julie crawled back to the table and pulled herself up. Eric got down on his knees, held open his arms, and said, "Walk to Daddy."

Julie laughed, fell to her hands and knees, and crawled to him. He gathered her up, sat her on his lap, and settled in the arm chair.

Stumpy put an arm around Gretchen's shoulders where they sat on the living room couch, and she lounged against him. A moment later, he exclaimed, "Holy shit!"

"Stumpy, not in front of the baby," Eric insisted.

"Sorry. But they just picked another defensive player. The first six were all defensive players! When was the last time that happened?"

"Never," Eric said. "No draft has ever begun with more than three consecutive defensive picks."

"Your husband is quite the repository of trivial knowledge," Gretchen said.

"It's not trivial," Eric insisted. "This is important stuff."

"And who do we expect to be drafted from the Bears?" Gretchen asked.

" _Maybe_ Chuck," Stumpy said. "But probably not until day two." He shook his head. "Seven guys declared early this year. I don't know why you'd do that, renounce the rest of your college eligibility, when you _know_ you're probably not going to get drafted. Eric has better odds than _any_ of those guys, and he's still waiting and improving another year."

"What about you?" Gretchen asked.

"I'm waiting and improving _two_ more years," Stumpy said. They had five years of eligibility. "I'm taking the minimum credits from here on out. This engineering major is really kicking my ass."

"Stumpy," Eric said, "the baby! Watch your mouth."

Tami chuckled. Eric said _damn_ and _hell_ and _ass_ plenty around the baby. At least he didn't drop any f-bombs, though. She was sure Gretchen would at some point today.

Julie wriggled down from Eric's lap and crawled over to Stumpy. She pulled herself up on his knee and squealed at him.

"Hey, there, sweetie pie," Stumpy said. "You're going to grow up to give your daddy lots and lots of grief, aren't you? The boys are going to be beating down your door, aren't they?" Julie squealed and laughed while Eric frowned. "Eric, man, why don't you take the full five years, too? Spread out your course load. Take it easy?"

"I've got a family to support, Stumpy. I can't dick around in college for another year when I can get my degree in four. Next spring, I'll either get drafted or I'll finish my B.A. Either way, I'm done with college, and I'm ready to work full-time."

"Did you not notice you just said _dick_ around?" Stumpy asked him. "In front of the innocent baby?"

"I didn't say dick around!" Eric insisted. "When did I say dick around?"

"You said dick around," Gretchen told him.

"Y'all," Tami interrupted, "I do not want my daughter's first word to be dick! Can we stop?"

Julie made a "Ddd….ddd….dddd" sound before squealing again. She dropped to the floor and crawled to Tami.

"When do they say their first words?" Gretchen asked.

"Usually between about now and 11 months," Tami answered as she pulled Julie up into her lap. "She's been early on everything else, but she hasn't even said mama or dada yet."

"We're taking bets," Eric told them, "on which one she'll say first. I predict dada."

"I'll put $10 on mama," Stumpy told him.

"I'll put a $20 on dick," Gretchen said. She cocked her head at Stumpy. "So, in two years, then, are you actually going to apply for the draft?"

"I'll be automatically eligible then, but I'm not getting drafted, Sunshine." Stumpy had picked that pet name just to annoy Gretchen. "Only one in 50 college players makes it. I'm not anywhere near that good."

"Yet," Eric said. "But you've been holding your own this season."

"I'll tell you what," Gretchen said, "if you make it to the NFL, I'll _officially_ be your girlfriend."

"Is that supposed to be an incentive?" Stumpy asked with a smirk.

"Well _you've_ been asking to make it official."

"I don't even see how it could be any more official," Tami said.

"He wants to shack up," Gretchen told her. "I think he just likes my TV."

"It _is_ a good size," Stumpy said. "And you _do_ have cable."

"This apartment is a bit of a commute to Baylor," Eric said. "Compared to the on-campus dorm you're living in."

Stumpy shrugged. "I like driving."

No Bears were drafted on day one, and Eric and Tami did not return to Gretchen's apartment the next day, because they had work and classes. When Eric got home that night, however, he told Tami, "Chuck made it! Redskins. Mind if I go out with the guys to celebrate?"

 **[May 17, 1991]**

Pastor John had given Mom a Polaroid camera for her birthday, and she went through four packs of film before, during, and after Shelley's high school graduation. She let the photos accumulate in small piles as they developed, and just kept clicking away and switching out film. Tami felt a pang of jealousy. Mom had not been quite so avid at her own graduation, and Shelley wasn't even going to college next fall.

"What exactly _are_ you going to do after your gap year?" Tami asked her after the graduation cake had been cut and they were all sitting around the table. Tami had not planned to allow Julie to touch cake until her first birthday in July, but as the girl sat on Eric's lap now, she brought a fistful of smushed icing to her mouth. Eric had scraped his off and left it on the side of his plate.

"I don't know, Tam," Shelley answered sarcastically. "Maybe I'll meet a prince in Europe and marry him and rule a small kingdom."

"You need a plan, Shelley," Tami insisted. "You need to go to college eventually."

"College is not the only way to make something of yourself," Shelley retorted. "I want to live. See the world. Experience things and people!"

"I'm sure you do," Tami said. "Just be aware you can't always do it on somebody else's dime." She glanced at Pastor John.

"I already told her that, Tami," Pastor John replied. "I only gave her a little money. She's saved up from her after school job, and she's doing this on the cheap."

That night, Shelley danced around the living room with a giggling Julie in her arms and sang, "Going to Europe…going to Europe, your aunt Shelley is going to Europe! Aunt Shelley! Shelley Shelly Bo Belly…Shelley!"

Julie laughed, squealed, and said, clear as day, "Ant Belly!"

Eric groaned. "No," he said. "No, that can't be her first word. Just…no."

 **[June 1991]**

Tami had finished her spring semester with a strong 3.4 and regained her 50% academic scholarship for the fall. This summer, she was working forty hours a week in the admissions office, Monday through Thursday, from 8 to 6. Since she wasn't taking any summer classes, that gave her three full days a week to be with Julie.

Eric was taking two classes in addition to his football training and his twenty hours a week at the bookstore. He wanted to avoid history classes in the fall and take the minimum six credits, so that he could concentrate on improving his chances in the draft during his last season. Both were on track to graduate in May of 1992.

Though her job was administrative support, this past year, Tami had learned a lot about what the admission committee was looking for in applicants. She'd learned, too, about some of the less savory aspects of the admission process, and she was thinking more and more about becoming not a private therapist, but rather a high school guidance counselor.

She told Eric of her thoughts one Friday night, after Julie was in bed and they were having one of their "kitchen table date nights," which they'd promised themselves to squeeze in once a week. It was the same routine every time: candles lit on the table, no television on, a bottle of cheap wine between them, one to two hours of conversation, and then to bed for love making.

"I think you'd be really good at that," he said. "You'll have the admissions office experience, and the pysch degree…and you've been there… been that kid who needed that extra push. That would be a great match for you."

"If it weren't for Mrs. Mason's guidance, I'd never have gotten to know you and made it to Baylor. I want to encourage kids like me. And now that I know about the underbelly of the admissions process, I can navigate students through it. But a guidance counselor job wouldn't pay nearly as much as private therapy, you know."

He smiled. "Babe, if I make it to the NFL, we're not going to _need_ the money."

Tami tried to avoid planning on Eric making it to the NFL, in case he didn't, but sometimes she couldn't help but enter the fantasy. "What _is_ the average rookie salary these days?" she asked.

"The minimum was around $250,000 last year," Eric said with a grin.

The full-time guidance counselor positions she had been investigating in the career center only paid around $25,000 a year.

"What kind of car do you want me to buy you, babe?" He reached for her hand across the table.

They shouldn't play this game, Tami knew, in case he didn't make it, but she couldn't help it. She laced her fingers through his. "A 1992 Mustang. Red."

"Convertible?"

She nodded.

He pulled his chair around next to hers, draped an arm across her shoulder, and kissed her, first her lips, and then her ear, into which he whispered. "First, I'll pay off all your student loans." She'd probably have close to $9,000 by the time she graduated. That would be over a third of her entire year's salary as a guidance counselor, but only about 3% of his if he made the NFL. It almost made her own efforts to pursue a career seem insignificant. "Then I'll get you that diamond ring I still owe you." He kissed her ear again and pulled back to look at her. "Then the Mustang. And then a house. How many bedrooms do you want?"

She smiled, shook her head, and thought of stopping him. Instead, she found herself answering, "Five is plenty. I'd like a pool though. Assuming we're in the south."

"Well, if the Buffalo Bills want me, we can get a house with an indoor pool."

She put a hand tenderly on his cheek. She should stop this. She should remind him this dream might not become a reality, and that they might have to work their way up to home ownership over a period of years, just like everyone else. But she didn't. Instead, she said, "I want enormous walk-in closets. His and hers closets," and she envisioned hers, in all its glory, with built in shelves and benches, majestic storage space, plush, wall-to-wall carpet, and a full-length mirror.

He kissed the palm of her hand. "Of course, babe. I'll get you one. For all your shoes."

She giggled.

"The red pumps," he said with a wiggle of his eyebrow, "and the sexy, black high heels…" He lowered his voice. "And you're going to need room for all the lingerie I'm going to buy you."

She leaned in and kissed him. He rested a hand on her knee. Their kisses deepened, and his hand found its way under her blue denim skirt.

"And I'll get us silk sheets," he whispered into her ear as he began to push her legs apart. "And we'll have the perfect stereo system in the bedroom." He slipped two fingers under the edge of her panties. "And we'll play all your favorite music." She gasped as he began to stroke her. "And we'll get those expensive candles you love but never buy yourself." He nibbled on her earlobe but freed it to whisper, "Dozens of them. All around the bedroom." Tami couldn't believe how excited she was, with so little foreplay. Normally, Eric didn't go straight for the sweet spot like that, but she couldn't deny that she was already responding to his touch. She began to move against his fingers.

He drew his head back to look in her eyes as he increased the tempo of his touch. She whimpered and bit her bottom lip. His eyes held hers intensely as he spoke. "And you'll be lying on our king-size bed, in all that candlelight, and you'll be wearing my new jersey and _nothing_ else…And I'll push up that jersey slowly…"

She closed her eyes. "Oh God, Eric," she whimpered.

"Undo my pants, babe."

She opened her eyes so she could pop free the button of his jeans and draw the zipper down while he continued to touch her.

"Touch me too."

He was hard when she slid her hand in his boxers. She kissed him hungrily as they played with one another until neither could stand it anymore, and he sat her on the kitchen table. Eric lowered his jeans and boxers to his knees while she wiggled out of her panties.

He'd just pushed into her with a low groan when Julie started crying in the nursery: "Mama, dada, dada, mama, mama!"

Tami was completely distracted, and her arousal plummeted almost immediately, but Eric kept going. He finished quickly, groaning with mingled pleasure and annoyance, as Julie's "Mama! Mamam! Dada! Mamama!" continued in the background.

Tami pushed him away. "I have to check on her," she said, and stood and lowered her skirt.

Eric was breathing hard, but he still managed to spit out words. "What, does she have a radar or something? This is the _third_ time we've been interrupted in two months!"

"I know," Tami muttered, no less frustrated than he was. More frustrated, actually. At least he'd had satisfaction, if a hurried kind. "You'd better take damn good care of me later, sugar."


	34. July 1991: One Year Today

**[July 1991]**

Julie's first birthday party was a family affair. Tami's mother, Pastor John, Mr. Taylor, and Karen all attended the festivities at the apartment in Waco. Shelley was in Europe, but she sent Julie a wooden doll she'd bought in Germany. Julie was showered with unnecessary gifts from both families. The one-year-old licked birthday cake from the palms of her hand while Tami's mom went crazy with the Polaroid.

After Mom and Pastor John headed back to Tyler, Karen and Mr. Taylor lingered. Karen was showing now, and Tami envied how un-tired the woman looked. "How can you have so much energy?"

"By not trying to do it all," Karen admitted. "I've stopped working while I finish summer school. Then I'll take off the fall semester from school and resume in the spring. With the baby due in the middle of my fall coursework, it just makes sense. And we don't need my nursing income right now. Garrett is doing very well with his business."

Mr. Taylor nodded. "Got four men working under me now."

"He was voted Best of Dallas County in the contractors category this summer," Karen said proudly.

"Mostly doing bathroom and kitchen remodels these days. It's good money. I'll scale back my workload once Karen re-starts medical school." Mr. Taylor smiled lightly at Tami. "We're trying not to bite off more than we can chew."

"Let's go out on the balcony and have a beer," Eric told his father, probably to prevent an argument.

When they were gone, Karen said, "Tami, whatever Garrett thinks, I believe you're making the right decision for yourself by not interrupting your schooling."

Tami settled on the couch and Karen sat next to her.

"I know it's been challenging," Karen continued. "But you'll have that degree before Eric begins his career. And that's important. Because once he does, then your academic and career goals are going to take a backseat. No matter how much equality we women gain, that's just the way it is most of the time. That's partly why it took me so long to get married. I wasn't willing to compromise on certain things. But Garrett is at a place in his career where he doesn't have to live in any particular city, and he has some power over his own schedule. So we can both pursue our goals without one or the other of us having to give up much."

"Eric's not a product of the 50s, you know," Tami told her.

"He doesn't have to be. I'm just speaking of realities. The day is coming when he's going to expect you to follow him for his career, arrange your work schedule to suit his, find jobs wherever he works, quit them when he has to move…Your goals are going to be secondary to his. So it's good you'll at least have your degree. Then someday, maybe, when he has more control over his career, as Garrett does now, it can be your turn."

"Well, if he makes it to the NFL, he probably won't stay for more than six years, and then when he retires, he can follow me for my job. If he doesn't make it to the NFL, we can find jobs in the same town. He'll teach, and I'll be a counselor. We can both pursue our goals equally."

Karen smiled indulgently.

Tami sensed that the woman thought she was being naive. "Eric's a good man," Tami said.

"Yes, he is," Karen agreed. "Garrett has raised him well." She laughed. "You know, the day I turned thirty-one, I decided I was going to give up hope of ever becoming a wife or mother. And then a week later, on Easter, Garret came up to me at that church fellowship table, looked in my cup, and asked me if I wanted a little coffee with my cream."

"What are you saying about me, my love?"

Tami hadn't noticed Mr. Taylor open the front door.

"Just that you're a good father, darling."

Eric followed his father in and closed the door. "It's 105 out there," he said.

Julie toddled rapidly to her grandfather and shoved a stuffed monkey at him. He handed his beer bottle to Eric and plucked his granddaughter up. When she shoved the monkey in his face, he pretended to devour it. Julie laughed. "Ga-pa! No, no, no, Ga-pa!"

Mr. Taylor smiled and set Julie on her feet. "Karen and I aren't driving home tonight. We took the day off tomorrow, and we got a hotel. We're going to see the sites before we head home."

"The sites?" Eric asked. "In Waco?"

"Well," Mr. Taylor said as he reclaimed his beer from Eric, "we'll probably sleep in, relax, have a leisurely brunch…"

That all sounded terribly wonderful to Tami. She wished she and Eric could go to a hotel overnight and do all that.

"…and then Karen wants to see the Dr. Pepper Museum. Because a pharmacist invented that coke. Right, my love?"

Eric chuckled. "If Stumpy was here he'd rib you good for that one, Dad."

"What one?" Mr. Taylor asked.

"That coke, Dr. Pepper?"

"What do you young Texans call it now? Soda?"

"Mostly. Stumpy calls it pop," Eric said.

"My father called it dope," Mr. Taylor said. "But then he was from Tennessee."

Tami mock gasped. "You're only a second-generation Texan?" she asked Eric.

"Well Julie's third generation," he said defensively.

"Fifth on my side," Tami told him smugly.

Eric nodded. "Our daughter's never going to want to leave Texas."

Mr. Taylor sat down in the arm chair. Julie toddled over to where Tami was sitting on the couch. "Cay! Cay! Cay! Cay!" she said while she bounced near her mother's knee.

"No," Tami told her. "You've had enough cake. No more."

Julie made a raspberry noise, toddled to the arm chair, and said, "Up!" Mr. Taylor lifted her up into his lap. She put her little arms around his neck. "Ga pa, cay cay," she said in a sweet, cooing little voice. She kissed his cheek. "Yezz? "

"I think she's got your number," Tami told him.

"Mhm. Good thing I'm not having a daughter. She'd have me wrapped around her finger."

"You two found out it's going to be a boy?" Eric asked.

Mr. Taylor and Karen both nodded.

"Have you picked a name?" Tami asked.

"I want either John or Kyle," Mr. Taylor said. "Karen wants either Andrew or Michael. So naturally we compromised. On Andrew Michael Taylor."

Eric chortled.


	35. Sept 7 1991: Lockerroom talk

**[September 7, 1991]**

For the first game of Eric's last season, the Baylor Bears played the University of Texas at El Paso on the home field. It was far too warm for Julie to wear the scarf Tami's mother had made from the Baylor's onesie, but the toddler held it like a blanket and chewed intermittently on the tail end. She was harder to control in the stands this season. She wanted to walk up and down the rows.

Grandpa took her for a long walk during half time, and returned just before the third quarter with cotton candy. "This will keep her busy," he said as he slid down in his seat.

"You can't give her cotton candy!" Tami exclaimed. "She's only 14 months. The sugar!"

"This is why children need grandparents." He plucked a little piece off and handed it to Julie, whose eyes lit up.

Julie took it and shoved it in her mouth and said, "Mhmmmmhmmmh!"

Tami shook her head.

Mr. Taylor pointed toward the field. "Watch daddy. He's looking for an opening."

Eric put in a good showing. Mr. Taylor left the moment the game was over to get home to his pregnant wife, while Eric went on to a football party and Tami took Julie back to the apartment. She checked the mail on the way in, and found a postcard from Shelley, with a picture of the Eifel tower on front.

 _Tam –_

 _Having a blast! Frenchmen are tres romantic! Still trying to ditch the chaperones John sent with me. Maybe I'll succeed in Italy or Spain. Give Julie kisses and hugs from her coolest aunt!_

 _\- Shelley_

Tami felt a pang of jealousy. She wanted to see Paris. And Rome. And Madrid. If she hadn't gotten pregnant, perhaps _she_ could have toured the world after college. Of course, if Eric made it to the NFL, perhaps they could tour the world on summer vacation.

 **[*]**

Tami was dozing off on the couch when Eric came home. She sat up, and he slid down onto the couch next to her. His eyes were bright and twinkling, and he had a silly smile on his face.

"Did you drive home?"

"Nah. Stumpy dropped me off. We can go back and get my truck tomorrow."

Tami sighed. It would be an inconvenience to have to take him to pick up the truck. He didn't go out often, and she knew he needed to bond with the team, but it felt unfair, her home with Julie, him at a party. "I wish _I_ got to go to a party," she grumbled.

"Come with me after the next home game. We'll get a babysitter."

"We don't have extra money for that."

"We'll get one of our parents to watch her."

"That's too late for our parents. They'd have to stay overnight. Your dad would probably feed Julie a bowl of sugar. And I'm not coming home buzzed with my _mother_ in the apartment."

"Fine. We'll get one of the youth from church to do it cheap," he said.

"I spend too much time away from Julie as is, between work and classes."

"So you _don't_ wish you could go to a party," he said.

"I do. I just _can't!_ "

He gave her a disbelieving look. "I just suggested a way you _could_. And you shot it down."

"I'm just irritated! You said you'd be home sooner."

"I'm fifty minutes late! I'm sorry. I had to wait for Stumpy to give me a ride home. I was trying to be responsible!"

Tami realized she was picking a fight, and she wasn't doing it because he'd done anything wrong. She was doing it because, sometimes, being a mother was no picnic. Studying psychology had made her more aware of her own thoughts and behaviors, and when this occurred to her, she said, "Sorry." She sighed and leaned against him. "I'm glad you were responsible."

"So what are you actually mad about?"

"I got a postcard from my sister today. She's out gallivanting across Europe. And you got to go to a party. It's not that I wanted to go, because really just wanted to put Julie to bed and curl up on the couch and read. But I think maybe I'm feeling like I have less freedom than other people my age. I just feel like I have so much responsibility."

"Because you _do_."

"Yeah. And sometimes I wish I didn't. That's all. I don't unwish our little girl, not for a second, I just…"

He kissed her cheek. "You're a good mother, Tami."

She smiled. "Did a lot of girls come onto you at the party?"

He gave her a look that said, _Do you really want to go down this road?_

"I'm just curious," she insisted. "It doesn't bother me like it used to. Now, it's sort of like when someone admires my dress and says, _Oh, I wish I had one like that. Where did you get that_? And I have to tell her she can't get it. Because I got the very last one."

He chuckled. "Only four. I talked to them like this." He waved his hand around, flashing his wedding ring.

"Did they take the hint?"

"Three did. I had to start talking to the fourth about how when I feed my daughter too many carrots, her poop changes color."

Tami laughed. She turned sideways against the arm of the couch and draped her legs over his lap. He began massaging one of her bare feet.

"C'mon. We'll get a babysitter," he said, "and you come to the next party with me. Have a few drinks. Have some fun. I'll be the designated driver."

"Okay. Maybe I will."

He massaged her feet for a few minutes and then patted her knee. "Let's go to bed."

Holding his hand, she followed him down the hall. "Did you drink too much to rally for your victory screw?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"I didn't drink _that_ much," he insisted. "Just thought I'd play it safe and not drive."

While Eric closed their bedroom door, Tami stepped out of the sweat shorts and panties she had on under the jersey she was wearing, which fell to mid-thigh. She'd taken off her bra hours ago. She knew Eric thought she was especially sexy when she wore nothing but one of his jerseys. If she were to psychoanalyze it, she would probably conclude that it made him feel like she _belonged_ to him.

She walked to him and gripped his belt buckle. "You looked really good in that uniform today," she said. "I almost wanted to follow you into the locker room after the game."

He grinned. "I had a fantasy about that in high school."

"Me following you into the locker room?"

"Yeah." He put a hand on one of her breasts.

Eric's touch excited her as he caressed her through the silky fabric of the jersey. She was glad she'd stopped picking that fight now. She didn't want to fight. She wanted to play. "Were you alone in the locker room?" Tami asked as she unbuckled his belt.

"Yeah. Everyone had cleared out, but I was still there for some reason …" He fondled her through the jersey. She closed her eyes and listened to the deep, hungry sound of his voice and felt the tingle spread. "I'd be standing by my locker, and you'd come in, and sit on one of the benches…cross your long legs, and look right at me…." He kissed her. Their tongues tangled.

She broke the kiss. "Then what did I do?" she asked. "Tell me your entire fantasy."

He blushed. "Nah."

"Tell me," she whispered as she unbuttoned the top of his jeans. "Please?"

"A'ight." He smiled sheepishly. "You…uh…. weren't wearing any panties under your skirt. And you put your hands flat down on the bench and uncrossed your legs and spread them open so I could _see_ that you weren't."

"Mhmmm…." She tugged his zipper down. "Were you wearing those tight football pants, and no shirt, with your shoulders glistening from sweat, and a small, sexy cut over your eye?" Okay, maybe that was _her_ fantasy.

He smiled. "Yeah," he said. "There'd be just a little bit of blood under my right eye."

" _Over_ your _left_ eye."

"Yeah, exactly," he agreed.

She pushed his jeans down to his knees. "And then what?"

"Then you stood up from the bench and started slowly un-buttoning your blouse."

She spread open the flap of his boxers to draw him out. "What blouse was that?'

"The silky peach one you used to like to wear. Seven buttons." He closed his eyes and swallowed as she began to run a single fingertip along his erection, but he kept talking. "You undid the first four – slowly. You weren't wearing a bra."

She stopped teasing him. He opened his eyes and started to protest but then saw what she was doing. She had gone to the nightstand to get the KY. When she returned and began to apply it to him, he closed his eyes again. "Damn, Tami, that's good."

"Then what?" she asked. He breathed in and out, his eyes closed and his head lolling back. Her hand stilled. He opened his eyes to plead with her. "Tell me, Eric, and I'll start again."

"You pulled your shirt open around your breasts and started touching them, right in front of me." She began stroking him again. "Oh God, Tami…that feels so good."

"Keep going," she urged him.

"You pinched your nipples, like this…" He tweaked hers through the jersey. She could feel the heat spreading down. "Oh God, Tami…"

"And then what did you do in your fantasy?" she whispered.

"I lost my damn mind."

"Did you take me right then and there?"

"Yes. After I pushed you against my locker."

"Show me," she demanded. "Pretend the wall is your locker."

He did, and this time, Julie slept through it all.

Later, as Tami was drifting off to sleep in his arms, a thought occurred to her. " _Wait_ a minute. You didn't start tutoring me until _after_ football season. And that was my favorite blouse in the _fall_ of my senior year. It got a horrible stain on it over Christmas break, and I just ended up throwing it out."

"Uh…" he mumbled. "Okay."

"Did you have that fantasy when I was still with Mo and you were still with Laura?"

"Uh….Umm…"

"Did you?"

"I don't recall when, exactly, I….uh…"

"You had that fantasy when I was still with Mo."

He threw an arm back behind his head. "Aw, c'mon, Tami! _Every_ guy on the team had a fantasy about you. Mo was the envy of every guy in that locker room."

"Did you _like_ me back then?"

"I hardly even _knew_ you back then," he said. "I just thought you were hot. Everyone did. It was a passing fantasy I had."

"But you were still in a serious relationship with Laura," she said, raising her head and peering down at him.

"Tami, it's late. It's after one in the morning. Julie will be up early. We have church tomorrow."

"You can go to sleep as soon as we finish this conversation."

He sighed. "Is this punishment for me coming home later than I thought I would?"

"No, a conversation with me should not be _punishment_ , Eric."

"No. It _shouldn't_ be," he agreed.

"I just…I guess I'm wondering if you ever have sexual fantasies about other women _now_. Do you?"

"No," he said immediately. "Never."

"That was a little too decisive."

"Tami, I think maybe you need to spend a little more time with your psychology textbooks if you think for a second it was a good idea for you to ask me that question."

She threw herself onto her back. "It was a terrible idea," she agreed.

"Horrible," he said.

"No Good," she added.

"Very bad."

They both laughed. They'd read that book – _Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day_ – a dozen times each to their daughter.

She curled against him. "I think we're getting better at fighting. We fight in much more healthful ways now, and we resolve things more quickly."

"You're just tired," he said. "You're tired, and you don't want to have it out tonight, but you'll bring this up again tomorrow. And Monday. And Tuesday."

"I will not!"

"Want to bet?" he asked.

"Yes, I do want to bet. I'll tell you what, Eric. If I _don't_ bring this up for the next three days, you owe me a thirty minute back rub."

"You won't last three days."

"I will. I'm getting the backrub," she insisted. "Because I will _never_ mention this conversation again."

"Nite," he yawned.

Just as she was drifting off to sleep again, yet another thought occurred to her. Last summer, in one of his history classes, he'd been reading Machiavelli.


	36. Sept 8 - 21: Early

**[September 8, 1991]**

There were two things Tami really loved about church:

(1) She and Eric got to spend a relaxed hour sitting down and holding hands without having to worry about Julie pulling furniture on top of herself. Their little one was in the church nursery under the watchful eye of a loving nursery volunteer.

(2) Eric looked incredibly handsome in his Sunday suit.

The music wasn't bad either, but God knew she didn't come to church for the sermons. Not that Pastor James was a bad preacher. He was good as far as preachers went, but her mind did tend to drift. Not today though. He was preaching on the scripture that read, "But I say unto you, that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart."

Tami couldn't help but sneak a sidelong glance at Eric. He gave her a warning look, as though to say she was about to lose the bet. She leaned close to his ear. "I said nothing. That's just Jesus talking." Eric shook his head. She leaned hers against his shoulder, to let him know she was only teasing.

"That's a tall order," Pastor James was saying. "Not even _look_ at another woman to lust after her. I think three things are happening here in this passage. One is this. Jesus sets forth an ideal. An _ideal_ , ladies and gentlemen. But no human person, and no human relationship, _is_ ideal. When we don't meet the ideal," He held a hand high up above his head, "We shouldn't do this," He brought his hand down to his eyes. "We should leave it here," he said, and shot his hand back up above his head again, "and do this." He looked up at his hand above his head.

Tami took a little peek at Eric. He was staring straight ahead, like a soldier at attention.

"That is, we've got to strive for the ideal," Pastor James continued. "We won't obtain it in this world, but we've got to strive. Character is in the striving."

Eric slid away from Tami and leaned forward in the pew.

"The second thing is…sin begins in the heart. _For out of the heart comes murder, theft, false testimony_ , and, yes, ladies and gentleman, _adultery_. You can't do it until you first _think_ it. And the _more_ you dwell on it, the more likely you are to do it. I think that's what Jesus means."

Pastor James scratched his cheek and continued, "Those of you gentlemen who are married, I think your wives would react very differently to knowing you think about other women – and I know you sometimes do – to knowing you'd had sex with another woman. I think they would react very differently indeed, because those are very different things. But adultery _begins_ in the heart. That's where it _begins_. So that's where you got to reach down and nip it in the bud, so to speak. Don't let it bloom. Be aware of your thoughts, and redirect them to better objects. Drink from your _own_ cistern, as the author of Proverbs says."

A man in front of them coughed and shifted nervously.

"Because it all may seem very harmless right now," the pastor preached, "but the day will come when the waves start chopping. When the marriage gets a little rocky. All marriages go through tough times. And if you aren't in the habit of studying your own hearts, gentlemen, well…those are the times when that heart of yours might start to lead you astray. I know it's a tall order. I know it seems prudish. But there's a _practical_ reason for these words. Don't beat yourself up when you do it, but when you catch yourself, well…redirect those thoughts to the glorious waters that are running from your own well."

Pastor James glanced at his watch. Today, there'd been some special music, and church was going to run over if the pastor didn't cut it short.

"Last thing. There's a difference between looking at a woman and thinking you'd like to have sex with her, and thinking about the same woman over and over and over again. Lust is active. It's is repeated. Lust _dwells_ , gentlemen. And ladies, before you think I've forgotten you, all this applies to you too. But I'd wager y'all don't have _quite_ the same struggle a lot of men do." He glanced at his watch again. "Let's pray!"

Tami and Eric drove home from church in relative silence. Eric seemed pensive as they ate lunch while Tami chattered about her plans for the rest of the day. Julie went down for her afternoon nap, which was when Eric usually worked-out, now that he wasn't working at the bookstore. However, he lingered in the living room and was sitting in the arm chair when Tami emerged from the nursery. She sat on the couch.

"Listen," he said. "In case you mistook our conversation the other night – "

"- What conversation?" Tami asked teasingly.

"A'ight, our lack of conversation – if you mistook that to mean I dwell on other women, I want you to know, I really don't. I mean, yeah, I'm a man, and I've thought about various women sexually in passing. A single passing fantasy here or there. But I don't have any _repeat_ fantasies about _anyone_ but you. I don't _dwell_ on _anyone_. I swear. There's _no one_ I desire _anything_ like I desire you. And I'm going to be better about even those casual, passing thoughts. I'm going to…nip that in the bud."

She smiled. "I did not bring this up," she told him.

"I know. I did. It's just on my mind, and I wanted you to know."

"Okay," she whispered quietly.

"I want to be a good husband."

She was touched, and perhaps her tender smile showed it. "I appreciate that."

He pointed to the floor in front of him. "C'mere. Sit down in front of me. I'll give you that back rub."

"I was kind of hoping to do it in the bedroom, you know, so I could take off my shirt and bra and lie down on my stomach."

He suppressed his smile. "That can be arranged."

As they walked back toward their bedroom, she said, "I used to have a fantasy about that in high school."

"Me giving you a backrub without your shirt on?"

"Yeah."

He grinned as he closed the door. "Tell me all about it."

 **[September 21, 1991]**

"Hello…Gretchen is it?" Mr. Taylor asked as he claimed his seat next to Tami only to find Gretchen sitting to the left of her.

Gretchen leaned forward in her seat to look over Tami. She smiled at Mr. Taylor. Not even a smirk, but a real smile. "You remembered my name," she said.

This was the first time Gretchen had bothered to come to a football game. She'd decided she didn't hate football anymore, and she wanted to see Stumpy play live. The Bears were playing Missouri at the home stadium. Last weekend, Eric had been in Colorado, where he'd put in his best performance to date and the Bears eked out a victory 16 to 14.

Even though the weather had cooled, Gretchen had on a short sleeve shirt. She pointed to a butterfly on the inside of her lower arm. "I got some new art. Butterflies suit my personality, don't you think?"

Mr. Taylor snorted and scooped up Julie, who was walking back and forth in the aisle at their feet, and set her in his lap.

"Do you have any tattoos?" Gretchen asked him.

"One that I got in high school, during a foolish, youthful moment."

"Can I see it?" Gretchen asked.

"No. That wouldn't be appropriate."

Gretchen chuckled. Tami shot her friend a warning look that said _Absolutely no flirting with my father-in-law_ , though she was pretty sure Gretchen was doing it just to wind her up.

In the third quarter, a pager attached to the belt loop of Mr. Taylor's jeans went off. He looked down at it.

"You have a beeper?" Gretchen asked. "I thought only doctors had beepers."

"I need it to keep in touch with my workers," Mr. Taylor said, "but this is my wife. I need to get to a payphone."

"You can use my cellular," Gretchen told him, and pulled a thick, black Nokia phone out of her giant purse-like bag and handed it to him. "You have to go out to the snack bar to get reception. And you have to pull the antenna all the way out."

"How do I turn it on?"

Gretchen showed him and he disappeared. A few minutes later, he came clamoring down the stands and practically threw the phone at Gretchen. "I have to go. She's having the baby. He wasn't supposed to be due for almost six weeks!"

Eric, who was on the sidelines during a time out, glanced up at the commotion as his father fled the stands. Tami made a rocking baby motion in his direction, and he appeared concerned.

Eric's distraction showed in the last quarter, but the Bears still defeated Missouri soundly.


	37. Sept 22 - 28: Homecoming

**[September 22]**

Eric crawled back into bed at 1:00 AM, after having made a mad dash for the ringing phone. "He's in the NICU," he told Tami, "and he might be there for a few days, but they think he's going to be fine. He's five pounds, three ounces, so a good size for being a bit premature. They just need to monitor him and make sure he's doing a'ight. I'm going to sleep a few more hours, skip church, and drive up to the hospital."

"Want me to come?"

"No. Stay here with Julie. They won't let her in there anyway. And I know you have to study. I'll take pictures." He kissed her forehead. He paused there, his lips lingering, as though he were thinking. He pulled back to look at her. "Hey, whatever happened to your interest in photography?"

"Life," she said. "Life happened. But I've taken lots of photos of Julie. I even entered one in the _Parent Magazine_ photo contest a couple weeks ago. I could win up to $600."

"You didn't mention that."

She shrugged. "Fall is for football."

"Well, I'm glad you're still taking pictures. And I hope you win." He was quiet for a while. "Do you realize that there's a larger age difference between me and my little brother than there is between my dad and me?"

"I did realize that."

"I'd never do that. I'd never have kids that far apart. It's just weird."

"But you do want a second?" Tami asked.

"Yeah, don't you?"

Tami had gone on the pill when Julie was three months old. She didn't want to risk another pregnancy while they were still in college. She'd tried a different kind this time, and she wasn't having the headache issues that had made her give up on it the first time around. "Yes. Maybe when Julie's in first grade. That's a six year's difference. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah, sure, that's fine. As long as it's not more than seven years. I want some years alone, just us, while we've still got energy, you know? I don't want my last kid to leave the house when I'm over 50."

"Me either," Tami agreed.

 **[September 28]**

For the first time in his life, Eric played a game without his father watching from the stands.

Baylor defeated SMU by a wide margin, and Eric dedicated his victory to his new baby brother, who had come home from the NICU yesterday. Because the game was held at noon in SMU's stadium in University Park, just a 20 minute drive from the Taylor house, Eric and Tami stopped by on the way back to Waco.

Julie peered into the bassinette, which was in the living room. "Bay-bay!" she declared. "Kee-oot."

"Is it okay to hold him?" Eric asked.

"Yeah. He's a strong little guy," Mr. Taylor boasted. "They just had to make sure he was doing well before they let him go."

Eric picked up the baby very carefully and cradled him, the way he'd learned to do with Julie. He'd seen the infant in the NICU, but never held his brother before. "He's so tiny," Eric said. "My _girl_ was bigger than this."

"Well he'll grow!" Mr. Taylor insisted. "He's already put on weight. Wouldn't be surprised if he was a linebacker one day."

Eric looked up from his baby brother and asked, "What if he becomes a ballet dancer, Dad?"

"Don't taunt me, son."

Eric chuckled.

When the baby started fussing, Eric handed him to Karen, who was sitting in the arm chair. She breast fed him beneath a blanket. Though she was fully covered, it still made Eric obviously uncomfortable, and so he offered to "clean up in the kitchen" and disappeared.

Tami felt a pang of jealousy when she saw how easily and carelessly Karen fed her son, after all the struggles she'd had with Julie. She sat down on the couch and asked, "You getting any rest?"

"Not much. Garrett is willing to help, but since I have to do 100% of the feeding…there's really no point in waking him up in the middle of the night too. And he's been working hard."

Mr. Taylor, who was standing with his hand resting on the back of Karen's chair, said, "I want to get some things solidly in place before Karen goes back to school in January, so I can trust my workers and scale back my hours."

"We're also interviewing part-time nannies to cover the hours when he'll be working and I'll be in school in the spring."

"I'd so love a nanny," Tami said.

"Maybe for the second," Mr. Taylor told her. "When Eric's in the NFL."

"Do y'all plan on a second?" Tami asked.

Karen shook her head. "We had so much trouble trying for this one."

"I wouldn't call it _trouble_ , my love." Mr. Taylor kissed the top of Karen's head. A little hand came out from beneath the blanket, and he stroked it with a single finger.

"And also, I think one child requires enough attention," Karen said. "Especially since I'm going to be a doctor one day."

Mr. Taylor sat down on the couch next to Tami. She pulled the latest _Parenting Magazine_ out of her purse. "It's no big deal, but…." She paged to the section with the photography contest winners. "There was a baby photo contest. I submitted one of Julie when she was about eight months. I only got an honorable mention." Her reward was a $25 gift certificate to Toys 'R Us.

She handed the magazine to Mr. Taylor, who chuckled at the photo of Julie with a toy phone, upside down, against her ear. He turned the magazine toward his wife. "Karen, darling, did you know my daughter-in-law is a _published_ photographer?" He sounded almost proud. " _Published_!"

For the first time, Tami thought it might not be so terribly weird, after all, if she were to one day start calling Mr. Taylor _Dad_.


	38. October 12: Party Time

**[October 12]**

The Bears lost the game against Rice at Baylor's home stadium in Waco, but by a narrow margin, and Eric played well. Afterward, Tami left Julie with a babysitter and joined Eric at a party. They danced together a few times before Eric was caught up in conversation by his teammates. Six guys, including Eric and Stumpy, ended up forming a circle, drinking, and dissecting the game. Eric nursed his beer, since he had promised to be the designated driver.

Tami wandered off, but not too far. She liked having Eric within her sights, in case she needed him. She chatted with some girls she knew from one of her psychology classes, and she was secretly pleased that several young men approached her and attempted to flirt with her during this time. It made her feel as though she were on more even footing with Eric in the attention-from-the-opposite-sex category. She hadn't felt that way since mid-pregnancy, and she had to admit she enjoyed seeing Eric riled by the attention that was paid her.

Every time he caught sight of a guy attempting to flirt with her, he frowned in her direction, but he didn't come over. He left it to her to fend them off, except once, when a freshman cornered her by the punch bowl and failed to take her hints. At that point, Eric strode over and slid a possessive arm around her waist. "The lady's not interested," he said, "Get lost."

"Dude," the freshman replied, "you don't have to be a hater!"

"I don't hate you. You just annoy me." Eric wiggled his fingers, the overhead light catching and flashing off his wedding ring. "Like a buzzing fly."

The freshman held his palm up toward Eric. "Talk to the hand," he said.

"What?" Eric asked.

The freshman walked away, or more like stumbled. He was pretty drunk.

"Talk to the hand?" Eric asked. "What the hell was that?"

"I have no idea, sugar. Maybe it's a new phrase the kids are using these days."

He laughed. "I do feel kind of old when I come to these things now. I guess becoming a dad aged me fast."

"You know, I felt bad that I don't have the time or energy to go to parties anymore…but now that I'm here…I think maybe I've outgrown this sort of party. I _love_ to socialize. But I think I'd rather be hanging with just a few friends, drinking wine out of _real_ glasses." She glanced into her red plastic cup. "And maybe playing cards."

"Listen, why don't we just leave, and I'll invite Stumpy and Gretchen over to our apartment?" Gretchen wasn't at the party. She hated parties. "I'll get up with Julie in the morning while you sleep in. We can go to the late service, or just skip church. I think Stumpy's getting bored anyway, since he can't sleep with any of the girls he's flirting with."

"You mean _won't_ , not _can't_. "

"Whatever. You want to do that?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I think I do. That sounds like fun."

From the backseat of Tami's sedan, Stumpy called Gretchen on his cellular phone and told her to meet them at the apartment. When he hung up, he said, "When are you guys getting one of these things?"

"When they don't cost an arm and a leg," Eric said. "I can't believe either you or Gretchen spring for that."

"You know, almost _everyone's_ going to have a cellular phone within ten years."

"I doubt that very much," Eric said.

"I bet even Julie's going to own one by the time she's fourteen."

"Like hell I'm letting my daughter have a _phone_ ," Eric told him, "that she can take _anywhere_."

 **[*]**

Tami had a great time at the table in their breakfast nook, drinking wine, talking, laughing, and playing Hearts with her friends. Eric limited his drinking, since he'd be fielding Julie in the morning, and Gretchen was nursing a single glass all night as she would be driving Stumpy home. But Tami was flying high, and she was pretty sure Stumpy was too.

"You knoooooow," Tami told Gretchen, "you can have one drink per hour and still drive!"

" _You_ can," Gretchen said. "I'm a very occasional drinker."

Stumpy laughed. "I think she's calling you a lush, Tami."

"I am not," Gretchen insisted.

"Well I'm getting tired of Hearts." Stumpy threw his hand down. "How's about some strip poker?"

"Woo-hooo!" Tami half yelled. That sounded like a lot of fun to her at the moment.

"No," Eric and Gretchen responded in unison.

"Why not, Sunshine?" Stumpy asked Gretchen. "We've all seen your tits anyway."

"Eric hasn't!" Gretchen insisted. "He wasn't with y'all when you came to Bazookas."

"It's so cute the way you say y'all," Stumpy told her, his dark eyes shinning with wine. "I just don't expect you to sound like a Texan. You don't look like a Texan."

"And what does a Texan _look_ like, Giovani?"

"Oooooh!" Tami said. "She used your real name. You're in trouble!"

"Wait," Stumpy said. "Tami, you've seen Gretchen's tits?"

"We _lived_ together," Tami told him. "It was _bound_ to happen!" She laughed.

Stumpy echoed her laugh. "Yeah," he said. "Bound to. Especially during all those naked pillow fights you two had." He refilled Tami's wine glass and his own. "God what I wouldn't pay to see that."

"Wouldn't pay?" Tami asked as she lifted her glass and sipped. Was she slurring her words? She didn't think so, but it did seem as if her words were coming out a little, well, longer than usual. "Why, what _wouldn't_ you pay?"

"My first born son," Stumpy said. "That's about the only thing I can think I wouldn't pay." He raised his wine glass to Eric and grinned. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it." He waved his glass back and forth between Tami and Gretchen. "These two? Am I right?"

"No. You're mistaken," Eric told him. He looked quite irritated to Tami. He had that little, tight line in his jaw.

"Why the hell not?" Stumpy slapped the table. "You saying my girlfriend's not hot?" He pushed his chair back and stood, as if he was ready to fight. Tami thought it was hilarious, and she burst out laughing. "You think Gretchen's not attractive?" Stumpy shouted.

"Shhhh! Julie's sleeping!" Eric admonished him. "Gretchen's very attractive, a'ight? I just don't want to share Tami with anyone, not even another woman. Now sit down. You'll wake Julie."

"Let's do it!" Tami said.

"Do what?" Eric asked her. Wow did he look peeved. Of course, he was kind of cute when he was peeved. That cute, little, straight-line frown he had…The way his eyes got a little darker… The way his hair seemed to stick up just a bit, all by itself, as if to emphasize how peeved he was.

"You're adorable, sugar," Tami said, and leaned over and kissed his ear. She nibbled on it for a second, as Eric tried to squirm away, before she remembered what she'd been talking about. She sat straight again. "Strip poker!" she exclaimed. "C'mon, Eric, I want to play."

"No," he said.

"Eric, man, you got to compromise for your woman sometimes," Stumpy told him. "Accommodate her. She wants to play a little strip poker, you got to let her play a little strip poker."

"You want a fight, Stumpy? Keep trying to see my wife naked, and I'll give you a fight."

"Don't be mean to Stumpy," Tami told Eric. "He's very _helpful_. Helpful is his middle name!"

Gretchen stood, shook her head, and picked up her purse from the corner of the breakfast nook. "Giovanni, I'm taking you home."

"Whose home?" he asked with a grin.

"I'm dropping you at your dorm."

"Awwwww!" Tami said. "But we were having so much fun. Gretchen, Gretchen, Gretchen. Party pooping Gretchen."

Eric and Gretchen looked at each other and exchanged some sort of secret understanding with their eyes. Eric stood and opened the front door. "Y'all have a good night's sleep," he said.

Gretchen ushered Stumpy out, pushing against his back and saying, "Move it, big boy."

Tami frowned when Eric closed the door and walked the few steps back to the breakfast nook. "Why did you make them go home, sugar?"

"You'll thank me in the morning."

She smiled. "I had a really good time."

He smiled back. "I'm glad you did, babe. We'll do it again sometime, but maybe with a little less wine next time. Now let's get you some water and then get you to bed."


	39. October 19: Butting Heads

**A/N:** Regarding the "nonexistence" of Eric and Tami's parents on the show that one guest review mentions—It's seems clear from what Eric says in season one that his dad is still alive ("My Dad still thinks I should have made it to the NFL") and from what Shelley says that Tami's mother is still alive (To Julie-"You should send a thank you note to your grandmother for those boobs."). I also assume they live in Texas, because when Eric doesn't want to move to PA, he says, "Our *family* is in Texas." He can't just be talking about the nuclear family, since Julie is no longer settled in Texas and if he and Tami and Gracie move, that's irrelevant. So I assume the extended family is in Texas, but their visits all occur off camera (except Shelley's). They come for Gracie's christening, but they are in those church pews somewhere. The Taylors visit family in summer. Maybe the parents come for Christmas – all off screen. So I'm not planning to explain their nonexistence, though I may work them into the course of the season in stories some time.

 **[October 19, 1991]**

The Bears were back at the home stadium once again, this time battling Texas A&M.

"Which one was your high school sweetheart?" Gretchen asked her.

"The defensive end. Number 52. McArnold."

"I can't really see him from here," Gretchen said, "But I'm pretty sure Eric is hotter."

"So am I," Tami agreed. Julie, now almost 15 months old, was sitting up in a seat this time, the one her grandfather would normally have taken. Tami had strapped a portable booster to it, and had Julie strapped in, with cheerios on the tray before her to keep her busy.

"It's good to trade up," Gretchen told her.

Mo sacked Eric again, for the second time in four years, and did his little victory dance. Eric shook his head. Mo approached him, and the two got in each other's faces, knocking helmets together. Tami wondered what Mo had said. The referees pulled them apart, and Eric was temporarily benched.

"Think they're fighting over you?" Gretchen asked.

"I think Mo's probably over me by now, Gretchen. I'm memorable, but I'm not that memorable."

"I bet he insulted your honor and Eric was defending it."

Tami snorted. "More likely he insulted Eric's honor."

Julie begged to be let out of her booster seat in the third quarter, which was when the coach put Eric back in. She walked back and forth along their row, Tami allowing her to get up to five seats away in either direction before calling her back. Julie flirted with the spectators, got gobs of attention, and eventually crawled up into Tami's lap and fell asleep just before the fourth quarter.

Baylor lost, 34 to 12.

"I'd like to beat Mo's team just once," Eric muttered when he got home that night. He didn't go to any after parties, but he'd taken his sweet time in the locker room, and Tami had already put Julie bed and changed into her night sweats.

"What did y'all fight about?" she asked.

"It wasn't a fight."

"Well you butted heads. Like those dinosaurs. That butt heads." She'd been reading about them to Julie from one of the books she'd been given for her birthday.

He laughed. "We exchanged a few words, that's all." He smiled at her. "Did you like that 70 yard pass I threw?"

"That was quite impressive," she told him and kissed him.

They made out on the couch for a while before retreating to bed, where they made love playfully. As they lay cuddled naked together afterward, she said, "You're in a good mood." He was usually disappointed and irritated after a loss.

"Coach said there were scouts in the stands today, and they were probably impressed by my arm."

She ran a hand along the sinews of his arm. "You do have a spectacular arm," she said.

He laughed and kissed her. "And then Mo got in my face, told me I never could beat him at anything, and I thought, well…I got Tami. Nothing he can ever do can hold a candle to that. I got Tami."

"You didn't say that to him, did you?"

"I didn't say anything to him, Tami, I swear. He got in my face."

"Looked like you got in each other's faces."

"Maybe. A'ight, yeah, but I didn't say anything. I just stared him down."

Tami just shook her head. _Boys_ , she thought, and she was suddenly glad she'd given birth to a daughter.


	40. December 31: Slaughtered

**[December 31, 1991]**

Baylor played Indiana at the Copper Bowl in Arizona on New Year's Eve. It was the first bowl game the Bears had played since 1986.

The entire family was there – Mom, Pastor John, Mr. Taylor, Karen, baby Andrew, Julie, and even Shelley, who had returned from her European adventure in September and was now living in Austin with several roommates, teaching aerobics, and _not_ applying for college. Eric's aunt and uncle had also driven from Oklahoma to join the excitement. Gretchen, like the troubled foster child of the family, had joined them as well, and she actually seemed excited for the game and the chance to watch Stumpy in it.

Little Andrew, at just three months old, was attending his first football game. He'd grown quickly once he got out of the NICU, and he was now bigger than Julie had been at four months. Currently, he was wrapped with a blanket, bunting style, and donned a Baylor snow cap. He rested in his father's arms.

"So this is your brother-in-law?" Shelley asked Tami, looking down at the baby. "Well….that's interesting."

Mr. Taylor shot Shelley an annoyed look.

Julie wore the scarf Tami's mom had made out of her old Baylor's onesie, though it was a rather short scarf at this point, and bit frayed from when she'd carried it about chewing on it at previous games. At any rate, any magical properties it might have possessed were now clearly gone.

In the first quarter, Indiana's quarterback scored a one-yard touchdown. Though Eric inched his team forward, the Bears couldn't seem to get on the board. In the second quarter, a field goal brought Indiana's total to 10, and that, followed by a 5-yard touchdown, gave Indiana a 17-0 lead going into the half.

"I thought the Bears were supposed to be a good team this season," Shelley said at halftime.

"They've won eight games this season," Gretchen told her. "Indiana's only won six. But the Hoosiers defense tonight…" She shook his head. "And that quarterback. Where did he come from? He wasn't this good earlier in the season."

Tami gave her a quizzical look. "I thought you didn't know anything about football?"

Gretchen shrugged. "I've been educating myself."

The pressure of Indiana's lead was clearly getting to Eric, because he fumbled the snap in the third quarter. The coach pulled him and put in the second string, who was not infrequently alternated with Eric, but he couldn't get anywhere either. In the fourth quarter, the coach pulled the second string and put in his third string, a new, more daring quarterback, a sophomore who had been given limited playtime in the past.

"He's desperate," Mr. Taylor muttered. "He's grasping at straws. He should go back to Eric. He shouldn't have _pulled_ Eric in the first place. Slow and steady is the only way to get on the board tonight. Eric would have done it eventually. This other kid is a loose cannon."

Baylor's youngest quarterback made many dramatic attempts, but with undramatic results. Indiana's quarterback scored a 4-yard touchdown run, bringing the final score to 24-0.

Tami watched Eric walk across the field, head hung in shame, congratulating his conquerors.

 **[*]**

Back at the hotel, Eric was in a foul mood, such a foul mood that Tami said, "Why don't you just leave and go down to the hotel bar and get a drink with your father? People are ringing in the New Year down there." It was only thirty minutes until midnight now.

"Because I don't want to talk to my father right now. He's just going to rake me over the coals about everything that went wrong in that game."

"Then go find Stumpy and get a drink with him."

"Gretchen's with him. I'm pretty sure they're…you know… _busy_ right now."

"Right now, they're probably down at the bar getting ready to ring in the New Year." She looked at Julie, who was sleeping in one of the two double beds. Tami had stuck up a portable rail on one side, but she only had the one. She hoped Julie didn't roll the other direction and roll off the bed in the middle of the night.

"Why don't you go?" Eric asked. "Go get your sister, y'all go down to the bar and enjoy yourself. I'll stay with Julie."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'll just flip channels and drink some overpriced beer from the minibar."

"You have a good time sulking, sugar."

She grabbed her purse and hightailed it to her sister's room, but Shelley didn't answer. She went down to the hotel bar, which was crowded with people waiting to ring in the New Year, and found Shelley standing at a high table with Stumpy and Gretchen.

"Hey! I made friends with your friends!" Shelley said.

Gretchen looked at Tami with an expression that said, _Your sister deeply annoys me._

Tami joined them. Gretchen was drinking seltzer water. She was probably waiting for the New Year to drink her one glass of champagne. A bottle of bubbly sat in a bucket at the table.

Stumpy grabbed a passing waitress gently by the elbow, "We need another flute," he told her.

"I was telling them all about Europe," Shelley said.

Tami had already gotten an earful about Shelley's time in Europe, including a great deal of information about a certain dark-eyed Spaniard with whom Shelley had fallen hopelessly in love. They'd exchanged contact information, and he was planning to come see her sometime this spring, as soon as he could get a tourist visa. He was twenty-seven to Shelley's nineteen, and the age difference had horrified Tami, no matter how many times her sister tried to reassure her that they were "just so totally compatible."

Tami was glancing at the clock when Mr. Taylor's voice arose from behind her. "Might I join this party?"

Stumpy smirked. "I reckon you might could." He stepped aside from Tami so Mr. Taylor could stand between them.

"Keep making fun of my Texan eloquence and I won't buy y'all a second bottle of champagne."

"Another flute!" Stumpy hollered to a passing waitress.

"Where's Eric?" Mr. Taylor asked.

"Brooding in our bedroom," Tami said.

"Well, I don't blame him," Stumpy said. "We did get our asses handed to us."

"You did your job well, though, Giovani," Mr. Taylor told him. "If you hadn't, they would have beat you by _twice_ as much."

"Thanks….I think. Was that an insult or a compliment?"

"It was as you take it," Mr. Taylor said. "Are you putting in for the draft in January?"

"Nah. Unlike Eric, I won't be done with my degree in the spring. I'll wait until next year. Not that I'm crossing my fingers."

"No, you _should_ cross your fingers," Mr. Taylor said. "That's how that works."

"You'll be crossing your fingers for Eric in April, then?" Stumpy asked.

"He doesn't need me to cross my fingers," Mr. Taylor answered.

"Well, uh…" Stumpy smiled hesitantly. "He didn't exactly go out with a bang with this bowl game."

"It's not his fault that coach pulled him before he had a chance to recover the score. The scouts are smart. They'll see that. I'm not worried about him getting drafted. He's not going to be picked up in the top six rounds, but he'll be picked up."

Stumpy gave Mr. Taylor a quizzical look that raised Tami's caution. Stumpy had often talked as though he thought Eric had a much better chance of making it to the NFL than he did, but he'd never actually said what he thought Eric's odds were. "Less than one in fifty college players _ever_ make it to the NFL."

Mr. Taylor shrugged. "Yes, but how many college players are even worth considering? Eric's the _starting_ quarterback for a decent team."

Stumpy shifted on one foot. "Yeah, sure, but…when only two percent make it to the pros…I mean, I'm no math genius, but – "

Gretchen put a hand on Stumpy's shoulder. "I bet if we get Tami's father-in-law drunk, he'll show us his tattoo."

"You have a tattoo?" Shelley asked, wide-eyed. "Where? What is it?

"My high school mascot," Mr. Taylor answered. "A decision I will forever regret. But I was drunk, and everyone was doing it."

"Well that's the best reason to do anything," Gretchen said with a smile.

"Tami, you have the most interesting friends," Mr. Taylor told her.

" _Where_ is it?" Shelley insisted. "Someplace you can't show us?"

"Well he _can_ ," Gretchen said. "But he's too much a gentleman to go about flashing young ladies."

"Is it on your _ass_?" Shelley asked.

Tami buried her face in her hand.

"Give or take," Mr. Taylor said.

"What was your school mascot?" Shelley demanded to know.

"Well, that's where the regret really comes in," Mr. Taylor said.

Tami looked up from her hand, Gretchen snorted, and Stumpy smiled with his eyes. "Tell us," Stumpy insisted.

"It's uh…" Mr. Taylor coughed into his hand.

"A what?" Stumpy asked.

"A horny toad. A horny toad, a'ight?"

Stumpy's laugh was a deep rumble.

"It was the worst mascot on the face of the earth," Mr. Taylor said, "but we thought it was hilarious. At the time."

"You know, you can get those removed these days," Gretchen told him.

"Too much trouble," Mr. Taylor told her. "And it amuses my wife."

A bunch of people shouted, "20!"

"Oh, we're counting down!" Shelley announced.

"From 20?" Gretchen asked.

"18!"

"Well, get the champagne ready, big boy," Gretchen insisted, and Stumpy took it from the bucket and began twisting.

"15!"

"14!" Shelley shouted, but no one else joined in until they got to "10," when the entire table chanted down to 1, at which point people started blowing horns and corks were popping all around the bar. Stumpy poured as the champagne fizzed out of the bottle. It was nearly empty by the time he filled and then topped off all five flutes.

"Did you know my sister is under age?" Tami asked Stumpy.

"Relax, Tami," Shelley instead. "It's New Year's Eve. And the drinking age most places in Europe is 16 or 18. I drank all year long."

They toasted and drank, and Mr. Taylor did order another bottle, not of champagne this time, but Chardonnay.

"So what are you doing with yourself next, Shelley?" Tami asked her sister.

"What do you mean? I'm living in Austin, teaching aerobics."

"I mean for your _future_. When are you going to school? What for?"

"Oh, Tami, you and school. School. School. School. Mr. Taylor didn't go to school, and look at how successful he is."

"He has a _skill_ , Shelley," Tami said. "An in-demand skill. _Several_ of them."

Mr. Taylor busied himself with pouring the Chardonnay. Gretchen declined, but Stumpy nodded, and Tami pushed her glass forward. So did Shelley.

"I don't have time for school right now," Shelley said. "When Javier comes, I need to show him around America. We might even take a cross-country road trip."

"And who's paying for all that?" Tami hoped to God Pastor John had put his foot down and cut her off by now. "Not Pastor John?"

"No. John gave me a little seed money when I got back from Europe for my first month's rent and told me that was it. I'm completely on my own now. I mean, not that he'll kick me to the curb if I'm starving, but I got the message. Javier will pay for it all. He's done well for himself."

"What does he do, exactly?" Tami asked.

"Textiles."

"That's code for drug smuggling," Gretchen told her. Stumpy laughed.

"He is _not_ a drug smuggler," Shelley insisted, swirling her wine glass with mock sophistication. "He imports and exports _textiles_."

Mr. Taylor drained his wine glass. "I need to get back to my room before my wife notices I'm gone."

"You snuck out?" Stumpy asked.

"I told her I was going to fill the ice bucket. Y'all have a Happy New Year." He pointed to the bottle. "There's one glass left." He disappeared through the crowd.

"How long did you have to get to know this guy, Shelley?" Tami asked.

"I was in Spain for an entire month. He was our guide."

"Why was he your guide if he's in the textile import business?"

"It's a _sideline_ ," Shelley said, as though it should have been obvious.

"Wait," Stumpy said. "Mr. Taylor didn't pay for that wine. Sneaky."

A waitress stopped to see if they needed anything else. "How much was that wine?" Stumpy asked.

"Oh, the man who just left paid for it already," she said. "And he also paid for the champagne you ordered. And he said to bring y'all a bottle of red."

"Hmmm…" Stumpy said when she left, nodding knowingly to Tami. "Maybe your father-in-law is the one in the drug business."


	41. January 1, 1992: New Year's Reckoning

**[January 1, 1992]**

At 12:30 AM, Tami brought the remainder of the half-full bottle of red upstairs to Eric. He was sitting up against the headboard, the lights out, but the glow of the TV on. He had on a pair of white athletic shorts and no shirt. Some old, black and white kung fu movie, the volume turned low, played out on the TV. He looked good to Tami, his arm bent behind his head, the muscles of his abdomen stretched tight, the white shorts contrasting with his dark hair. He held the remote in one hand and a glass of water, without any ice, in the other.

"Did you already clean out the minibar?" Tami asked as she sat on the bed next to him. Julie appeared to be soundly asleep in the other bed. She had rolled a bit to one side, fortunately toward the side with the travel rail.

"Turns out there is no minibar. It's just an empty fridge." He muted his show, put the remote on the night stand, and nodded toward the bottle. "What's that?"

"Wine. At least two glasses left. All for you."

He drained his water and held out his empty glass, and she poured.

"I already had a glass of champagne and a glass of chardonnay and a glass of red wine," she said as she leaned in, smiling, and kissed his nose.

He smiled back. It was nice to see him smile. She put the bottle down on her night stand, scooted closer, leaned back against the headboard next to him, and rested a hand on his thigh. "You feeling a little better, sugar?"

"Julie was talking in her sleep a minute ago. Said Daddy drops ball."

"She did not!" Tami insisted. "And you only fumbled the _once_. You actually played pretty well. You were inching the Bears along, and you would have gotten on the board if you hadn't been pulled."

"According to whom?"

"Your dad," she said.

"Well, I can't say my dad doesn't have confidence in me. It's a bit misplaced but…" He shrugged.

"Hey, you got to be in a bowl game! You had a great season overall. We've just got one semester left, and we'll both have our B.A.'s We've got a healthy, beautiful daughter. I just got a raise at work. Things are good, Eric."

"Well, since you're giving me the state of the union address, what's our savings account look like?" he asked.

"It's empty," Tami admitted.

"And how much do you have in student loans at this point?"

"I'll have $8,800 when we graduate."

"And how much are we carrying on the credit card?" he asked.

"About $250." She sighed. "We're close to done, Eric. We'll pay that all off one way or the other."

"You mean even if I fail to make it to the NFL?"

"Eric – "

"- What do you think my odds are? Honestly? I want to know what you think."

Tami didn't know how to answer that question. Mr. Taylor seemed to think they were 1 in 1, but she thought he was the sort of man who would dare to aim for the moon with a sling shot. Stumpy seemed to think his odds were two in ten, which weren't that great, really, when she thought about it. "I think I don't know, Eric. You know far better than me what your odds are. You understand the process better than I do. What do _you_ think? Honestly?"

He'd never actually told her before. They fantasized, and he made a lot of "if I make it to the NFL" statements, but she didn't know how much of that was wishful thinking, how much was bravado, how much was his father talking, and how much he really believed.

"I think I have a 60% chance of being drafted."

It was a rather specific number, and he said it as though he'd arrived at it through serious thought. Tami felt a sudden surge of excitement. Were his odds really that high?

"But if I'm drafted," he cautioned her, "I don't expect to be picked until toward the end, in the eleventh or twelfth round." By the time Eric was head coach of the Panthers, the draft would consist of only seven rounds, but in the early 90s, there were still twelve. "That means I probably won't get a great contract. I'm not going to be one of these guys who gets a guaranteed salary. I could be cut when they trim the roster down. Then I'd only get my signing bonus and whatever I managed to pocket of the per diem in camp. You understand all that?"

She nodded.

"The signing bonus should be enough to pay off your student loans if I don't make it. If I _do_ make it to the 53-man roster, and we get the big paycheck, then….I know we've been daydreaming, but I'm not going to be one of these guys who expands his lifestyle to fit his income, and then finds himself out of the NFL, no better off than when he went in. Seventy percent of these guys are in financial distress within five years of leaving. I'm not going to get used to spending a quarter million a year. The first year, we bank one-third of my salary, and we put one-third down on a reasonable house. Something nice, but nothing that we can't afford to make payments on if I don't get picked up after my initial contract expires."

"So no pool?"

"Well, depends where we live. You can get a reasonable house with a pool some places in the south. But we aren't actually getting an indoor pool in the north. I'm sorry."

She smiled. "I love how responsible you are, Eric. It's sexy."

He laughed. "Sexy responsibility, huh?"

"It _is_ sexy."

"Yeah?" he asked as he set his wine down on the night table and then leaned in to kiss her. He lowered his voice. "Maybe I'll even draw up a budget then."

She giggled and kissed him, her hand on his cheek. When he slipped a hand beneath her shirt, she drew back and nodded toward Julie's bed.

"She's sound asleep," Eric insisted. "We'll be quiet."

"She has that sex radar all the way from the other room, hon."

Eric slipped out of his shorts. He didn't have any underwear on. He picked up the remote and the room was clothed in darkness as he switched the TV off. "We'll get under the covers. Worse that happens is she wakes up and we don't finish."

Tami shimmied out of her clothes and joined him under the sheets. "Quietly," she whispered to him.

She felt like a teenager, sneaking around, trying not to get caught by a parent, as their lips met and their hands roamed each other in the darkness.

Eventually, he rolled her onto her back, stretched her arms above her head, and laced his fingers through hers. Holding her pinned against the bed, he eased slowly into her.

"You set the pace," he whispered, and she did.

It felt wonderful, to have him pressed so closely against her, his deepening breath in her ear, to feel the strength and power of him, to share quiet sighs and muffled moans. When Tami came, she buried her mouth against his shoulder, so she wouldn't wake Julie. He groaned into the pillow.

Slick and damp and hot, they threw off the comforter and cuddled naked beneath the top sheet. Julie stirred in the other bed, rolled to her side, and muttered, "Daddy drop ball." Then she stilled and was silent.

"I told you," Eric said.

"Well you didn't drop the ball this time," she told him. "You saw that one to completion."


	42. January 2-18: Tutoring Eric

**[January 2-11, 1992]**

This spring, Tami was doing a counseling practicum at the Student Health Center for four credits. For the first few sessions, she was nervous every time she went in, but she soon felt more confident in her abilities.

Meanwhile, Eric had started a new part-time job. Gone were his days at the bookstore. He was currently coaching for an after-school, youth flag football program at a nearby community center. The program had children ranging from second to fifth grade. Some of the kids had been deposited there for day care and just wanted to play around, but others were serious about learning football. Eric would come home from work in the evening and jabber excitedly to Tami about this kid or that, and how he'd help improve his blocking, or his passing, or his rushing.

"You'd make a great coach," she told him one evening as they were washing and drying dishes together and he'd just finished telling her about his day.

Tami had thought, _If you don't make it to the NFL_ , but she'd omitted that part. She knew how sensitive he could be to the suggestion that she was uncertain about his future in professional football. So she was especially reassured when _he_ was the one to say, "That's my back up plan, if I don't go pro. Well, that and teaching history or P.E." He handed her a clean, wet plate. "Coaching doesn't pay much at the lower levels. I'd need a full-time teaching salary until I could work my way up."

She put the plate in the cupboard. "I bet you'd make a great teacher, too. Think about what a good tutor you were to me."

He smirked and wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her neck. "I _tutored_ you well, didn't I, babe?" he murmured.

Tami giggled and squirmed away before smacking Eric with the dish towel. He grabbed the free end of the towel and yanked her close, into a kiss.

"No!" exclaimed Julie, who had just toddled into the kitchen. "No!"

Eric looked down at her and chuckled. "I'll kiss your mother anytime I like."

"No! Daddy weed book."

"I'll read you a book, Monkey Noodle," he said. "Just as soon as I'm done kissing Mommy."

Tami was assaulted by a dozen playful pecks, while Julie shot up a chorus of no's.

 **[January 15, 1992]**

When Eric came home from work today, he had nothing to say about the youth football program. Instead, he enveloped Tami in a hug (she was setting the table in the breakfast nook) and kissed her deeply before asking, "Guess what?"

She smiled, happy in his happiness, even though she didn't know the cause. "What?"

"I got my invitation. To the NFL Scouting Combine. In February."

This was an incredibly good sign. Not every eligible player was invited. Someone, at least, was seriously considering him.

"I'll have to make up a lot of class work when I get back," he said, "but my professors are being really understanding. I stopped and got some wine. When Julie's in bed - "

"- An early table date night?"

"Yeah." He smiled and whispered, "And possibly a congratulatory blow job. You know. If you want."

Tami shook her head, chuckled, and smacked him on the ass.

From where she was playing in the living room, Julie said, "No mama! No spank daddy!"

 **[January 18, 1992]**

One evening, when Tami emerged from putting Julie to bed, she found Eric at the table in the breakfast nook, papers spread before him, a pencil in his hand. He asked her to help him study for the Wonderlic, which was the written test he would be given as part of the NFL evaluation process.

"I haven't had a math class since high school," he told her. A B.A. required at least 6 math **or** science credits as part of the core requirements, but they'd counted his Sports Medicine and Exercise Physiology classes for that requirement. "I just need a refresher. I need to be able to do these math problems quicker. Can you talk me through a few?"

She sat down next to him and smiled. "You need _me_ to tutor _you_ in math?" she asked.

"Just a quick refresher," Eric insisted.

She pulled the sample questions to herself. "Good Lord, Eric. These are easy. This is very basic algebra. You taught me Algebra II. You don't know how to do this?"

"Tami, I stopped taking math after high school. You took pre-Calc and Calc and those two semesters of statistics for your psychology major. I'm sure if you don't use it for the next four years, you'll forget it too."

"I don't think I'll forget it."

"Fine. Sure. Thirteen years from now our high school daughter will ask for help in math and you'll know exactly how to explain it." He motioned to the sample problems. "Help. Please."

They went through fifteen sample problems. Then he worked ten on his own. Satisfied, he put his pencil down. "I remember how to do math now," he said. "Thanks."

"Is the entire test this easy?" Tami asked.

"Well, babe, keep in mind that I have _twelve minutes_ to answer _fifty_ questions."

"Oh!" She hadn't realized the time limit was so short. "What are you expected to get?"

"They usually want quarterbacks to have at least 23."

"How can you correctly solve 23 math word problems in just twelve minutes?"

"Well, it's not _all_ math. There's general knowledge and logic and verbal stuff. I'm fine with that."

"Yeah," she said, "You're good with verbal _stuff_."

He smirked in reply. Then his smirk grew into something more like a lecherous grin. "Hey," he said. "You want some kind of payment for that tutoring session?"

She smiled to recall their early days of fooling around, when she had no idea how much he liked her, and they weren't yet officially dating. She'd been so painfully aroused at each of those "sessions," so excited to start them, so on fire during them. There was something special about those initial explorations that she knew they could never quite recapture again. Of course, the more he got to know her body, her likes and dislikes, the more skilled his lovemaking became. She would never trade what they had now for that time, but part of her missed those days, when everything was new.

She titled her head at him. "Fifteen minutes," she said. "I keep my panties on, and you keep your boxers on."

It was surprisingly thrilling, going into it knowing there was a limit, that it was all going to end at the beep of his watch. They hadn't dry humped since high school. They enjoyed a heated time of making out like virgins in their marriage bed, but in the end they cheated. When Eric's watch began to beep, Tami, heavy with breath and heady with desire, ordered him, "Ignore it."

She unbuttoned the flap of his boxers and drew him out. He pushed the edge of her panties aside just enough to ease into her. Both, stretched to the limits of their arousal, panted and grunted their way to a quick satisfaction.

After collapsing beside her, he hit the alarm button on his watch and the beeping stopped.

"Well," she said, " _technically_ , we did leave on our underwear."


	43. Feb - March 1992: Tiger Goes RRRR!

**[February 1992]**

Tami's mother came down the week Eric was at the Combine to babysit Julie and keep Tami company during the nerve-wracking time. Unfortunately, Mom had a way of making things even more nerve-wracking.

"Did he study for that Wonder-kick test?" Mom asked her one evening while Tami was trying to study. Julie was down for the night, and Tami was sitting on the living room floor, legs stretched out under the coffee table, a textbook open before her.

"It's Wonderlic, Mom, and yes."

"Oh, I thought it was kick. Because they kick the ball." Her mother was settled in the arm chair.

"Most of them don't ever kick the ball."

"What's he doing in that camp all week? An _entire_ week he leaves you alone with the baby?"

"Mom, they run him through all sorts of tests of strength and stamina."

"Well, all I'm saying is that your father never did that. He never left town for an _entire_ week."

"I bet he would have if it meant a potential opportunity to make $250,000 a year." And besides, her mother had just left Pastor John for an entire week.

"What? Is that what Eric will be making if he gets in the NFL? As a _rookie_?"

"Probably. Maybe a little bit more."

"As a _rookie_?"

"Yes, Mom," Tami repeated in annoyance.

"Those salaries sure have gone up. That boy I dated in high school didn't make nearly as much as that when he got drafted."

"You dated a professional football player?"

"Well, he wasn't one when I dated him. I broke up with him for your father. He was drafted by the AFL two years later. If I had known that was going to happen…."

"You'd have been mercenary and stuck with him?" Tami asked.

"Well, who knows what I would have done back then. I was such a silly girl. I was so much like Shelley is now."

" _Really?_ " Tami asked. In appearance and temperament, Tami had always taken after her father, while Shelley looked far more like her mother, but Tami had never considered Mom and Shelley's personalities to be at all similar. "What happened?"

"Your father. I fell in love with the man, and he had his head on his shoulders, and he told me if I didn't get my head on my shoulders, we couldn't be together. So I set some goals, we got married, and I went to community college for a semester…" She sighed. "But then I got pregnant, and he got that job, and we had to move, and I dropped out, and I never did accomplish much after all. So I guess I can't lecture Shelley."

"You raised two daughters for years on next to nothing all by yourself. Neither of those daughters ended up in jail or on a stripper's pole. I'd say you accomplished something, Mom."

"Neither has ended up in jail or on the stripper's pole _yet_ ," Mom said.

"Well I _was_ thinking of applying down at the topless bar next Tuesday."

"Don't be sarcastic with me, Tami. You know I was talking about Shelley. I don't know about this aerobics class of hers she's teaching in Austin. I think a lot of young men take that class just to watch her bounce around."

"I doubt any men take that class, Mom. Aerobics is a very popular exercise with women."

"And now she's running around with that Spaniard." Shelley's Javier had arrived in the U.S. three days ago. "Who's twice her age."

"He's 27. Twice her age would be 38." Tami wasn't sure why she was defending her sister, except that her mother was annoying her. She did not like the idea of her baby sister running around with a man who was five years older than Eric, and she had told her sister so point blank.

"And I think he's staying with her in her apartment while he's in the U.S. John says there's nothing we can do but be there when this mistake blows up in her face and help her pick up the pieces, but I think we should _do_ something."

Tami had felt they should do something, too, but, the truth was, she didn't know what they _could_ do. You couldn't lock Shelley up. She was 19. When she'd tried talking sense into Shelley, the two had only ended up fighting, with Shelley crying, and then Tami crying. "Maybe Pastor John is right. Maybe that _is_ all you can do."

Mom sighed. "I think it's all _John_ can do. Your father would have invited that Spaniard over for dinner. And when he came in, your father would have been cleaning his shotgun on the dining room table. And he would have motioned to the chair across from him, and he would have laid down the law."

"Maybe," Tami said. "But Dad's gone. Love the one you're with."

"I do," Mom said. "I love John. But not the way I loved your father." Her lower lip trembled a little. "Excuse me," she said. She pretended to cough.

"I still miss him too, Mom," Tami said quietly. "I bet I'll be forty one day, and something will remind me of him, and I'll just start crying." She stood up from the coffee table and came and hugged her crying mother.

 **[*]**

Tami's mother left six hours before Eric returned. When he walked into the apartment after completing evaluation week, he picked Tami up in a bear hug, twirled her around, and set her, laughing, back on her feet.

"I missed you," he said, and kissed her warmly, while Julie tugged on his pants leg and said, "Julie turn!"

Eric picked up his daughter and twirled her as well. When he set her down, she giggled and stumbled off to the wooden doll Aunt Shelley had given her, which she had left in the corner of the living room.

"So how do you feel you did?" Tami asked. "On all those tests of strength and stamina?"

"I did about as well as I expected to do. Better on some tests than on others. I wasn't at the top of the pack by a long shot, but I did my best."

She looked at him coyly. "Well, as soon as Julie's in bed, I want to give you my _own_ test of stamina."

Eric's responsive grin was tired, sloppy, and downright adorable.

Later that night, as they lay cuddled and exhausted in bed, he said, "The NFL should see _that_ stamina."

"Yeah?" she joked. "And then are you going to review the tape later and see how you can improve your performance?"

"We should do that. We should make a tape. I bet I could learn a lot. Stumpy has a camcorder I could borrow."

"No way in hell, Eric."

He laughed.

 **[March 1992]**

As Tami drove to the warehouse club they'd joined to stretch their food dollar, she scanned through radio stations looking for some good music. She paused on sports radio when she heard two local commentators discussing the upcoming NFL draft.

 _T_ _he Bengals may be considering adding another quarterback to the roster. Word is they've got their eye on one of Waco's own, Eric Taylor of the Baylor Bears._

"Oooh! They're talking about Daddy!" Tami glanced at Julie in the rearview mirror.

Julie turned to the sound of her mother's voice. "Daddy! Daddy twow ball," she said before gazing out the window again.

"Not that Waco really owns your Daddy. We've lived here less than four years."

 _They call him the tortoise,_ the commentator continued.

Tami was not aware they called him the tortoise, whoever they were. She couldn't wait to make fun of Eric for it.

 _Why do they call him that, Bob?_ another commentator asked.

"Twee!" Julie said as she pointed out the window. "Car! Car goes Vwoom!"

 _Because while his performance has not been as spectacular as many of the other quarterbacks in the mix, he has shown slow but steady improvement throughout his college career. He's not going to be picked up by a team that really needs a quarterback this season, but he might be picked up by a team like the Bengals. They can treat him as an emergency backup for a couple of seasons while training him up. He's shown the ability to learn, and when one of these NFL coaches gets ahold of him -_

 _\- How did he do at the Scouting Combine in February, Bob?_

 _Well, there were 34 other quarterbacks at this camp. That's a record number. There are almost too many good quarterbacks to choose from this season, and that's not even counting the free agents whose contracts are up._

 _So how did Taylor do?_

 _Rumor has it that his vertical jump and broad jump were near the bottom of the heap._

Tami frowned.

 _And his 40-yard dash and bench press were just average. But he's said to have done very well on the position-specific drills and the shuttles. He passed the drug screen, the Cybex test, and he doesn't seem to be injury prone._

 _How'd he do on the Wonderlic?_

 _Well, those scores are private and not released to the press, as you know._

 _They sometimes get leaked, though, don't they?_

 _Yes. Now, we don't know Eric Taylor's score, but given his academic performance in high school and college, there's no reason to believe he didn't score at least a 23. That's the minimum most teams want to see in a quarterback._

 _You say given his academic performance, Bob, but we all know those grades can be inflated for players._

 _Yes, but Taylor is a double major, in history and phys ed, and he's completing his degree in four years while working part-time and raising a daughter. It's likely he has an above average intellect._

 _But teams don't necessarily want to see too high a score either, do they Bob?_

 _Well, a lot of managers get nervous when a player scores above, say, a 40. They're afraid he'll be a know-it-all who second guesses the coach's plays._

"Daddy got 38," Tami said. "Good thing he's not _too_ smart, huh?"

"Daddy!" Julie exclaimed. "Daddy loves Julie!"

 _So, you're predicting a late round pick for Eric Taylor, then? By the Bangles?_

 _I am indeed. I see him getting snatched up in the 11_ _th_ _or 12_ _th_ _round._

"Want to move to Ohio?" Tami asked Julie, smiling at her in the rearview mirror. "It might be nice to have summers that aren't 104 degrees."

Julie pointed out the window. "Cow. Cow goes Moooooooo!"

Tami had never been beyond Texas, except for two childhood family trips to see her grandparents in New Mexico, before they died, and that one bowl game in Arizona. Eric had at least seen several other states for his away games. She thought it would be interesting to live in a big city in the Midwest. Cincinnati was bound to be more interesting than Tyler or Waco. And she'd heard that Midwesterners were _almost_ as friendly as Texans. Ohio wasn't like the East Coast, where, she'd always heard, people were busy and rude. She'd never want to live in some place like New York or Philadelphia.

Eric had never had any respect for the Bengals. They'd lost thirteen of their sixteen games last season, but Tami supposed they wrote their player's paychecks just the same. And there was always the possibility of being traded up to a better team.

When Tami got home with a hoard of cheap food for the month, Eric had just gotten home from his run. He was still sweating. He helped her bring up the groceries.

"I was listening to sports radio on the way," Tami said as she unloaded groceries and crammed them into the two cabinets they had turned into a pantry.

"Yeah," he said, still breathing a little heavily from his run, but she could hear the excitement in his voice, "I heard that too, on my Walkman. What do you think of living in Cincinnati?"

"I think it would be fun to do for two or three years."

"Until I can get on a better team, you mean?"

"Eric, it's the _**NFL**_!"

He grinned wildly. "I think this is happening," he said. "I think this is _really_ going to happen."

She kissed him. He tasted salty from sweat. "Now why don't you be a good little tortoise and make your slow and steady way to the shower?"

"I'm never going to live that name down, am I?"

She smiled and shook her head.

"I don't even know where they got that from. No one calls me that."

"That you know of," she said with a smirk.

The next day, Eric bought Julie a little Bengals jersey, and when he put it on her, she said, "Tiger. Tiger goes RRRRR!"


	44. Draft Day 1992

**[Sunday, April 26, 1992]**

"Damn," Stumpy muttered. It was day one of the draft, and Eric and Tami were watching ESPN at Gretchen's apartment. Tomorrow, on day two, when Eric expected to be picked, they would be with family. " _Another_ quarterback?" He glanced at Eric sympathetically.

Tami thought Eric looked a little pale. "Is that a problem?" she asked.

"It's just more than usual," Eric said quietly.

"Especially considering how many quarterbacks these teams already have," said Stumpy, shaking his head.

"But the Bengals haven't picked a quarterback," Eric reassured her. "As long as they don't…I've still got a chance. They're the ones who seem to want me."

Julie put a hand on Stumpy's knee and patted it. "Unca Stumpeeeee! Unca Stumpeee! Poneee!"

Stumpy scooped her up as the TV faded to commercial. He took her hands and bounced her up and down on his knees. "Ride little pony, ride to town!" he chanted. "Careful little pony, don't…fall….." He looked at Julie and grinned. She giggled. He held onto her hands but opened his legs so she fell through. "…..Dooooown!" Julie laughed hysterically as he jerked her back up before she could slide all the way to the floor and then closed his knees and started bouncing her again.

"Giovanni!" Gretchen scolded him. "Careful you don't give her a concussion on that coffee table."

"She's nowhere near the coffee table, Worry Wart."

"This is so nerve wracking," Tami muttered.

"See, I told you," Gretchen said to Stumpy.

"No, I mean watching this draft," Tami told her. She glanced at her bouncing daughter, who was smiling at Stumpy. "Julie's fine. But….do you have any wine?"

When Gretchen returned from the kitchen and handed Tami a glass of red wine, Stumpy and Eric were both whooping.

"What just happened?" Gretchen asked.

"Frankie," Stumpy told her. "Cornerback. The Atlanta Falcons just plucked him up. You met him, at that thing."

Gretchen shook her head.

Tami was on her second glass of wine when Eric and Stumpy were whooping again. A Baylor defensive end had been drafted by the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Not much later, the Cleveland Browns picked up one of the Bears' defensive tackles.

"Wow," Gretchen said. "Y'all _did_ have a good season, huh?"

"Yeah," Stumpy said. "Over the last three years, we've never seen more than two Bears drafted in a season."

Eric had grown quiet.

 **[Monday, April 27, 1992]**

On the second day of the draft, Eric and Tami went to their Monday morning classes but skipped work to drive to the Taylor home in Dallas. They all ate dinner together, and when Tami went to put Julie's unfinished sippy cup in the fridge, she saw that Mr. Taylor was chilling champagne.

The family moved to the living room, where Mr. Taylor turned on ESPN. To prevent Julie from wandering off, pressure gates were put up at the halls leading to the bedrooms and to the foyer. A seven-month-old Andrew sat in his pack 'n play and gurgled as a twenty-one-month-old Julie stood outside of it and dangled toys at him.

The announcement of every pick was a moment of tension, Mr. Taylor leaning forward in the arm chair and Eric firmly gripping the beer bottle he was slowly sipping. Each time Tami hoped Eric's name would be called, even when there was no reason to hope it.

Each round, when the Bengals came up, the room grew especially quiet, except for the coos and squeals of Andrew and the running monologue of Julie as she chattered down to him in his play pen.

Pick after pick passed. Andrew was in and out of the pack n' play, on his father's lap, on his brother's lap, in his mother's lap, on the floor, and back again. A Baylor wide receiver was snatched up by the Miami Dolphins. That made four Bears, now, Tami thought. Four already.

Julie fell asleep for fifteen minutes spread out across Eric and Tami's laps. Then she woke, climbed down, and went over to the pack n' play to look at Andrew, who had just arisen from his own longer nap.

The twelfth and final round was upon them, and the room grew tensely silent when the Bengals came up for their last pick of the draft. Even Julie seemed to recognize the enormity of the moment, and she followed everyone's gaze to the television screen.

"Your daddy is about to get drafted to the NFL," Mr. Taylor explained to her.

"Daddy play foootball?" Julie asked.

"Yep," Mr. Taylor answered, " _professionally_."

"Yep. Daddy twows ball. Yep. Yep. Yep."

"He sure does," Mr. Taylor told her with an affectionate smile. "He's going to throw it for the Bengals soon."

"Tiger!" Julie said. "Tiger goes Rrrrrr!"

"Shhhh!" Mr. Taylor told her. "Listen for Daddy's name."

Tami was tingling with excitement as the Bengals put a name in.

 _Well, John,_ said one of the ESPN announcers, _we know the Bengals have been talking about possibly adding another back-up quarterback to the mix, and they've been closely watching Eric Taylor of the Baylor Bears as an up-and-coming talent who could potentially be trained._

Tami clapped happily while Julie turned to the TV and shouted, "Daddy! Tooch - down!"

"Shhh!" Mr. Taylor said. "Listen now. Daddy's about to get drafted."

 _It was originally predicted Taylor would be picked sometime after the tenth round._

"Was predicted?" Mr. Taylor asked. "What the hell does he mean, _was_ predicted?"

 _But now the Bengals no doubt find another quarterback to be unnecessary._

"What?" Mr. Taylor shouted. "Why?

Eric was gripping his empty beer bottle tightly.

 _Why do you say that, Paul?_ the other commentator asked.

 _Well, John, as you know it's possible to use a running back as an emergency third quarterback if it should come to that. And if you noticed, the Bengals picked just the man for that in round 10. In fact, because of his dual-threat ability, Miles actually had the opportunity to play quarterback multiple times in his high school and college career._

Tami looked anxiously at Eric. She didn't quite understand what they were saying. Eric's teeth were tightly ground together as he fixed his eyes on the TV.

 _What the Bengals do still need, however, especially after they got Washington scooped out from under them in the eleventh round, is to shore up their defense. We all know what a terrible defense they have._

 _Well, John, it looks like they've decided._

Tami gripped Eric's free hand, the one that wasn't holding his empty beer bottle.

 _And who are they going with?_

 _Well…_ the commentator said, _this is very interesting. This individual wasn't even invited to attend the Scouting Combine._

Tami felt the muscle spasm course through Eric's fingers.

 _He was injured toward the end of last season, sat out the last couple of games, and maybe the scouts temporarily forgot about him._

Eric's hand slipped from hers.

 _He has, however, fully healed, and up until that point, he had a fairly solid reputation for sacking quarterbacks._

A wave of disappointment swept over Tami, followed by another wave of fear for the pain Eric must be experiencing in the wake of this announcement.

 _It's a defensive end,_ the commentator continued, _an Aggie, from Texas A &M_, _Morris – Mo - McArnold_.

"Goddamnit!" Eric stood and threw his empty beer bottle at the wall just above the TV. It shattered into shards of brown glass and rained down on the entertainment center.

Tami froze in horror.

Karen gasped.

Julie burst out crying, and when Andrew heard his niece wailing, he too began to cry.

Mr. Taylor shot up out of the arm chair. "Son! Control your temper!"

"I'm so sorry, Karen," Eric said. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. I'll clean it up. Right now, I'll – "

"- I'll get it," Karen told him, scooping up her wailing son from the playpen. "Don't worry. I'll get the vacuum and I'll get it later." She left with the baby, opening the gate to walk down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

Tami was torn between comforting Julie and comforting Eric. She plucked up Julie and set her on one hip, making a shushing sound, and then tried to wrap her other arm around Eric, but he stepped away. "That's it," he said. "Twelfth round. Last pick. That's it."

Julie buried her face against her mother's shoulder.

"It's not over," Mr. Taylor reassured him. "You could still get picked up as an undrafted free agent. Hell, son, think of it this way. Now you're free to negotiate with any team."

"You're delusional, Dad!"

Mr. Taylor's jaw clenched. Tami knew that expression – it was a mirror of Eric's own when he was trying to suppress his anger. Two words escaped through Mr. Taylor's teeth: "Excuse me?"

"You and I both know that isn't going to happen," Eric said. "Not for me. The rosters were already bloated going into the draft, and then too many quarterbacks were picked on day one. The _only_ reason I still thought I had a chance after that was because I thought the Bengals specifically wanted me, but they've decided they don't _need_ another QB. Years of training. Years! And it's over. It's all over. And I have nothing to show for it."

Tami stepped toward him. "Eric, sugar – "

"- Nothing!" he shouted. "I failed!"

Tami reached for him, but Eric pulled free. He violently opened the gate that was blocking off the hallway that led to the foyer and headed for the front door.

Tami set Julie down in the armchair and handed the girl one of her stuffed monkeys. "Where are you going?" she asked in fear as she followed Eric.

"For a walk," he said, and opened and slammed the front door before she could reach him.

Tami had her hand on the knob when Mr. Taylor put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't," he said. "Leave him be."

"He needs me," she said.

"No. He needs to be alone."

Tami shook her head and began to turn the knob.

"Tami! Listen to me. He's angry. You saw how angry he was. You go to him now…he might say things he regrets. Things he can't take back. Leave him be. He'll come back. When he cools off, he'll come back, and that's when he'll need you."

Tami swallowed. She wanted so badly to follow Eric, to sweep him into her arms, to tell him she loved him, that she didn't care, that his four years weren't a waste, that he was going to do great things. But instead she returned to the living room and lifted Julie into a great big bear hug. The girl's face was still streaked from her earlier tears. "Daddy?" she asked. "Daddy twow bot-tel?"

"Daddy threw a bottle, yes. He didn't mean to. Daddy is upset he wasn't drafted."

"Tiger?"

"No," Tami said. "No tiger."


	45. Draft Day continued

**[Draft Day continued…]**

When Eric wasn't back in over an hour, Tami couldn't take it anymore. She was a nervous wave of pacing energy.

"I'll go drive around and look for him," Mr. Taylor assured her. She insisted on coming with him, no matter how hard he tried to put her off.

"I'll watch Julie," Karen told her.

Once they were in his car, or rather Karen's, a four-door sedan, Mr. Taylor seemed to drive with a purpose.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"There's a bar in this direction, about twelve blocks from the house. I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up there. I might have, if I were him."

When he pulled to a stop in the parking lot behind a building painted with the words "The Watering Hole," Tami reached for the car door.

"No," he said. "Wait here. I've done some work for the owner. This isn't exactly a family friendly establishment. I'll just check if he's in there, and I'll come back."

She followed him anyway. He looked behind his shoulder at her and shook his head.

When they walked through the front door, Tami saw what Mr. Taylor meant. There were several men in the establishment, some in cowboy hats and some in sleeveless leather jackets that revealed their tattooed arms, some burly and intimidating and others lean and leering, some harmless looking and some dangerous looking, but hardly a woman among them. She could feel several pairs of eyes turn to her.

A bald, stocky man who sat at a high table near the door stared intently at her chest. She threw a warning glance at him, but he only smiled and lewdly licked his lips. She felt suddenly sick.

Mr. Taylor didn't notice, because he was watching the scene at the bar, where Eric stood waving a glass around, whiskey sloshing up and down the sides. Eric didn't drink whiskey. He drank beer.

"Cut off!" Eric shouted. "What? I haven't had that many!"

"It's the time frame," the bartender said. "The law requires me – "

"- Law!" Eric shouted. "What law? There's no goddamn law!"

"If you don't calm down," the bartender said, "I'm calling the cops."

"I've got him!" Mr. Taylor shouted. "Raylan, I've got him." He walked over to Eric and clasped a hand on his shoulder.

"Garrett, you know this punk ass kid?" the bartender asked.

"Yeah, I know him, and I'm going to get him out of here and get him home."

"I don't want any trouble," the bartended told him.

"I know," Mr. Taylor said. "I know."

"You going to pay his tab too?"

"Just debit what you still owe me for the repairs."

The man at the high table had gotten down to stand next to Tami, and he was looking her up and down. "What's a sweetheart like you doing in a dump like this?"

Tami didn't respond to him.

"Too proud to answer me? Proudy, pretty thing, ain't ya?"

"Hey!" Eric shouted in his direction. "That's my wife!"

"You're with _that_ loser?" the man asked. Then, looking straight at Eric, "It's a shame, because I don't think you've got what it takes to satisfy a girl like her. She needs a real man." He held his hands out as though gripping an imaginary woman's hips and began pumping his crotch forward and back and laughing.

Eric lunged toward him, but, in his drunken stumble, tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground. Before Eric's face hit the wooden floor, however, Mr. Taylor had crossed the barroom and punched the man in the face. The bald man's head snapped back, and blood dripped from his nose.

"Goddamnit, Garret!" the bartender shouted. "Not in my bar!" He picked up the phone.

Mr. Taylor tossed the car keys to Tami. "Get in the car," he said just before the bald man lunged forward and tackled him against a table.

 **[*]**

It was hot in April, and especially hot in the car where Tami was waiting tensely in the passenger side seat. Eventually, she had to crank down the window. She heard the sirens in the distance. A minute later, two cop cars and an ambulance pulled into the lot. Four cops and two medics streamed into the bar.

It seemed like hours, though it was only another fifteen minutes, before Mr. Taylor emerged with Eric, walked him to the car, and assisted him into the backseat. Mr. Taylor slid into the driver's seat. He had a white bandage secured with medical tape to his forehead.

"What happened to you?" Tami asked.

"That bald guy cut me with a broken bottle. It's fine. Medics didn't think I needed stitches." He held out his hand. "Keys."

As she handed them over, she asked, "Neither of you is in trouble with the police?"

Mr. Taylor started the car and began to drive. "One of the cops goes to my church. I explained to him the situation, and he was understanding."

Eric groaned in the backseat. "Dad….I think I'm going to vomit."

"Not in my wife's car you aren't." He pulled over to the side of the road. Eric stumbled out and vomited into the gutter, near a storm drain, and then crawled back into the car. Mr. Taylor peeled off.

When they walked into the house, Karen took one look at Mr. Taylor's bandage and asked, "What happened?"

"I'll explain later."

"Is he okay?" Karen glanced at Eric, who was being supported by his father.

"He's going to take a little nap in the guest bedroom." Mr. Taylor led him there.

Tami slid wearily onto the couch.

Julie had been waving a stuffed monkey over Andrew in the pack n' play. She dropped it. "Daddy sick?" she asked.

"Yes," Tami told her. "Daddy's sick. So he's resting for a little bit."

Mr. Taylor returned to the living room. He said not one word about what had just transpired. Instead, he sat down on the floor, plucked up another one of Julie's stuffed monkeys, and said, "My monkey."

"No!" Julie cried. "MY monkey!" She ran to him, and he tickled her. They mock tussled, and Julie was all gales of laughter until she noticed his bandage. She pointed to it and asked, "Boo boo?"

"Just a little one," he said, and Karen raised an eyebrow at him. "I'll explain later," he repeated to her.

"Tami, honey," Karen said, "why don't you go lie down with your husband? Get some rest. We'll watch Julie."

Tami took her up on the offer, crawled into bed next to Eric, and curled up against his side. He was on his back, snoring. Somehow, maybe it was pure weariness over all that had just happened, she dozed off.

When she awoke, he wasn't in the bed. She heard the shower running in the guest bathroom. In a matter of minutes, Eric re-entered the room, a white towel wrapped around his waist, his hair damp. He dropped his clothes in a pile to the floor, avoided meeting her eyes, and lay down in bed next to her on his back.

"Did you drink some water?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered as he looked up at the ceiling.

She put a hand on his knee. "How are you feeling?'

"Like shit."

"I'll drive us home tonight." She glanced at the clock. They'd slept awhile. It was already ten at night, but they both had work and classes tomorrow. They couldn't stay overnight.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I didn't make it. I'm sorry I threw the bottle. I'm sorry I got drunk. I'm sorry I couldn't defend your honor against that asshole. I'm sorry that I wasn't even man enough to do _that_."

"Eric," Tami said softly.

"I don't deserve you."

She curled against him and kissed his cheek. He turned his head aside and closed his eyes tightly. She could tell he was trying not to cry, but she didn't try. She just cried. When her tears wet his shoulder, he said, "You're disappointed in me."

"No, Eric. I _believe_ in you."

He took in a shaky breath, and Tami could see the tears pooled in his eyes, not yet running over. "Why?"

"Eric, you're my husband and the father of my child. You don't think I know you?" He didn't answer. "Well I _do_ know you. You're strong, and loyal, and conscientious. You're hardworking and smart and sexy and – "

"- Stop."

"No. I'm not going to stop. I'm never going to stop believing in you. I'm never going to stop supporting you. Whatever the future holds, I'm going to be by your side every step of the way. And there's nothing you can do to stop me."

He turned his head, put a hand on her cheek, and kissed her deeply. "I love you," he whispered. "And I'm going to make myself worthy of your faith in me."

 **[*]**

When they emerged from the guest bedroom a little later, they found the living room empty. They went to the kitchen, where Karen was emptying the dishwasher. She stopped when she saw them. "Julie's in our bed. She was a little keyed up, but Garrett read to her, and she finally fell asleep at 9."

"Karen," Eric said, "I apologize for my behavior today. There's absolutely no – "

"- It's okay, Eric," she assured him. "You had a really bad disappointment. I know you didn't mean to do it. I understand."

"Thank you." He looked at the floor. "We're going to need to get going back to Waco soon. Where's my dad?"

"He's in his shop in the garage."

When Eric and Tami opened the door to the garage, Mr. Taylor stopped hammering. He hung his hammer up on a peg board full of tools and wiped his hands on a cloth. He had a window air conditioning unit running in the garage, and it was nice and cool. He appeared to be making a toy chest.

Eric put a hand on one of the workbenches – Mr. Taylor had two - and did not look at his father as he spoke. "I apologize for my behavior today. It was unacceptable."

"Yes, it was," Mr. Taylor replied. "There were children in the room when you threw that bottle. You terrified my son and my granddaughter. And you were a guest in my wife's house. That was disrespectful to her. And then you drew me into a bar fight."

" _I_ drew you in?" Eric looked up now. " _You_ threw the first punch."

"Because you were too drunk to throw it."

"It wouldn't have _needed_ throwing if you hadn't brought Tami in there in the first place."

"Nobody _brings_ Tami anywhere, son. Tami goes where she pleases."

"Fair enough," Eric said. He swallowed. He seemed to be waiting for his father to say something more, but Mr. Taylor was silent. Finally, Eric said, "I'm sorry I disappointed you, Dad, that I didn't make it to the NFL, that I let you down."

Tami wondered if she should leave them alone, but she thought Eric might want her support, so instead she put a hand on the small of his back.

"It doesn't have to be over, Eric," his father said. "I admit, you're probably right that you aren't going to get signed as an undrafted free agent _now_. But this glut of quarterbacks won't last. And if you continue to play football in the amateur leagues for – "

"- No," Eric interrupted him.

"Son, you were robbed. You were robbed by some two-bit, cocky defensive end. You were a better player than him in high school, and you're a better player than him now."

"Dad, Mo sacked me _twice_ when the Bears were playing A &M. He was good in his position in high school, and he got better in college. _I_ was surprised when I didn't see him on the invitation list to the Combine. He's an ass, sure, but it's not _his_ fault I didn't get drafted. He earned that pick. He's a better football player than I am."

"You have real talent, son. You have a gift. If you just play for an amateur league for a while, you _will_ be noticed again. They'll all be _sorry_ they passed you over. You could –"

"- No," Eric said. "The amateur leagues take up a huge amount of time and pay nothing. I have a family to support. There's a reason you quit playing semi-pro."

"I didn't have the support of a wife. I didn't have someone to share the burden. And I _still_ wish I'd done it, that I'd found a way to keep playing, that I hadn't given up when I did. I should have made it work, asked my sister to help more, gone into debt if I had to."

"Well I'm sorry you regret your decision, Dad, but this is _my_ decision. I need to be a man and take care of my family. I'm going to look for a teaching job somewhere where I can get on as a coach too."

"So you'll coach?" Mr. Taylor asked, his voice slightly raised. "You'll start as some low-level assistant, with a paltry stipend, and put in hundreds of hours of work a year to coach, but you won't do the same thing to _play_? Why?"

"Because if I pay my dues coaching, I _know_ I can eventually get to a point where I can support my family doing it. You don't know how many plays I've suggested to my coaches over the years that they've told me where good calls. You don't know how much I love coaching those little kids at the after-school program. I can be _good_ at that job, Dad. It'll be much easier to teach and coach for the same school than it will be to work some unrelated, full-time job while playing in an amateur league."

"Are you even certified to teach?"

"I'll have my B.A. in May. There's an alternative certification program. I can get certified over the summer, start work in the fall. There's a teacher shortage in Texas right now."

"What about the CFL?"

"What about it?" Eric asked.

"They have open try outs. You could maybe get in, make an impression, and later get drafted from the CFL to the NFL as a free agent."

"Even if they wanted me, as a rookie CFL player, I'd probably only make around $30,000."

"Well that's more than you'll make as a teacher!"

"I'd have to pay Canadian taxes on that salary. And the cost of living is a hell of a lot higher than in Texas."

"Not a _hell_ of a lot."

"I'd have to learn the Canadian rules."

"They aren't _that_ different, Eric."

"I'd have to move my family to Canada. Tami would need a work visa or something."

"They could live across the border in America," Mr. Taylor said. "You could go back and forth."

"What? And maintain _two_ households? On _that_ salary? And not see my wife and child for days at a time? Even if they did want me, I'm not going to put off building a teaching and coaching career and rip myself from my family for the CFL."

"You're giving up, Eric. You didn't get what you wanted when you wanted it, so like a petulant little boy, you're just throwing in the towel." Mr. Taylor tossed the rag he was holding onto the bench. "You're not even trying!"

"I have tried!" Eric's voice echoed against the garage door.

Tami put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. He waved her away and took a step closer to his father.

"For sixteen years, I have tried," Eric said. "Since I joined the Tiny Mites in Pop Warner when I was six year old, I have tried. I have trained, and I have studied, and I have watched game tapes, and I have run routes. I've lifted weights until my arms ached. I've worked-out until I puked! Trying is not enough! I've invested my entire life in football, and I still couldn't make it. The truth is – and it's a hard truth to accept – but the truth is - I'm just not quite good enough for the NFL. You made me _believe_ I was, because you _wanted_ me to be. But I'm not."

"Don't try to make this about me, son. You _love_ football."

"Yes, I do love football. And I want a career in football. But I want one where I might actually rise to the top instead of spending all my energy treading water at the bottom. I want one that could potentially last fifty years instead of five. I want to coach."

"You're selling yourself short. You're just as good a football player as I ever was. You're – "

"- No," Eric said slowly and decisively, his voice strong, but calmer now. "I've watched all that old 8mm game tape of you. You would have been drafted if you hadn't quit. You were phenomenal. You were…. _you_ were the one with the gift. And you gave it all away." He closed his lips tightly and looked off into a corner. "For me." He took in a shaky breath before looking back at his father. "And I'm sorry, Dad, but…I can't give it back to you. I just can't."

Mr. Taylor's head fell. His eyes seemed fixed on a stain on the cement floor of the garage. His jaw was set tight.

"It's time for me to move on," Eric said softly.

Mr. Taylor swallowed, but he didn't say anything.

"It's okay," Eric said quietly. "You still have one son left." He fished his keys out of his jeans pocket and took Tami's had. "C'mon, babe. Let's go."


	46. April 28 - May 2: Important Things

**[Tuesday, April 28, 1992]**

Julie was sound asleep, and so was Eric, when Tami pulled into their apartment parking lot at 12:05 AM.

She had hoped Mr. Taylor would call after Eric before the door to the garage shut behind them, that he would tell Eric that he loved him and didn't regret the sacrifice he had made for his son. But the man just stood there in the midst of his shop staring at the floor.

She left Eric sleeping in the car and took Julie upstairs. She was just heading for the front door to go back down to get him when it opened. "Hey," he said softly when he came in. His hair was a tangled mess.

"Hey," she said back.

Tami took Eric's hand and led him to bed. He stripped to his boxers and lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling in the darkness. She changed into a nightshirt and lay beside him on her back and took his hand. The ceiling fan beat unsteadily above them, tracing darker shadows on the already dark ceiling.

"Thanks for driving," he said. "Thanks for…for everything."

She couldn't see him well, there in the darkness, but she could _feel_ his mood, in the reluctant clasp of his hand, in the heaviness of his body against the bed, in the rigid way he lay. The disappointment was no longer rolling off him like a wave, but those dark waters were still lapping at him.

She considered her words carefully and decided on this brief truth: "You impressed me."

His laugh was short and sharp, a scoffing snort. "Really?When was that? When I lost my self-control and threw that bottle? When I tripped over my own feet in the bar? Or when I upchucked on the side of the road?"

"When you refused to scapegoat Mo, even though it would have been an easy thing to do. When you were honest with yourself about your abilities. When you set goals for the future, with me and Julie in mind. When you stood up for yourself to your father. Eric, you _impressed_ me."

In the darkness, he turned to her and sought her lips, the failure flowing out of him and the pride pouring in. His caresses were gentle but confident, and her need built gradually. They made love slowly but intensely, her sighs drifting up and dissolving with the whir of the overhead fan, his voice a deep, thrilling murmur in her ear as he asked her if she liked what he was doing to her, if it felt good, if she wanted it, if she wanted more…

"Yes….yes….yes…." was her soft cry of reply. "Please, Eric. _Please_."

The wave of her pleasure mounted, crested, and broke to the sound of his low moan. They both gasped for air in the aftermath, settled and stilled, and in the warmth of their mutual embrace, drifted off to sleep.

 **[Wednesday, April 29]**

When Eric got home from the youth flag football program, Tami already had dinner on the table. As they ate, he said, "I need to go to the computer lab after dinner, if that's a'ight."

"Bwead," Julie said, as she brought a piece of dinner roll to her mouth. "Yum!"

"Why?" Tami asked. "Didn't you finish that history paper?"

"I'm going to print out some resumes. Start faxing them off to schools tomorrow. Play up the youth coaching angle." He smiled. "And my peer tutoring experience."

Tami chuckled as she bent down to pick up the sippy cup Julie had just knocked over. She handed it back to the girl and said, "I need to send out my resumes too. But I'll wait to see who hires you. It'll probably be easier for me to find a counselor position at a school near your school, than for _you_ to find _both_ a teaching _and_ coaching position at a school near my school."

He dipped his spoon into his stew – a hodgepodge she'd thrown together from yesterday's leftovers – and said, "The alternative certification program is going to cost money, and it's going to be 50 hours a week. I won't be able to earn much this summer."

"We'll figure something out," Tami assured him.

"I guess you wouldn't have to worry about money if you had never broken up with Mo. He'd be bringing you home a nice paycheck."

"Sure. Whatever he didn't spend on his mistress."

"Mistwess?" Julie said. "Mistwess?"

Eric glanced at their daughter as though suddenly realizing Julie was not entirely deaf to their conversations.

"There's a reason I married you, Eric," Tami told him.

He pointed his spoon at Julie. "Yeah. I know. She's sitting right there." He made a silly face at Julie and she giggled.

" _Several_ reasons I married you. I'll take a conscientious and faithful man over a paycheck any day."

"Another thing," Eric said, turning his attention from Julie to Tami. "We have to be out of the apartment by May 30. My scholarship is up when we graduate. They let us finish the month. That's it."

"We can't pay for an extra two months? While you get certified and I keep working at the admissions office?"

He shook his head. "They don't do that. I asked. And there's already a waiting list for this apartment."

"I suppose we could live in the parsonage for a couple of months. I could find some kind of temporary work in Tyler until I have a counseling job. Tyler Community probably has one of those certification programs. Grandma could watch Julie while I work and you get certified. Free childcare."

"Ga-ma!" Julie said. "Ga-ma make cook-eeees! Yummmmmm…."

"I don't want to live with your mother, Tami."

"Neither do I, but…they have a spare bedroom. Two, actually. I'm sure she'd say yes. It would just be two months. Then we'd get an apartment wherever you get your job."

The kitchen phone rang. Tami went to answer it, covered the receiver, and said, "It's your father." He shook his head. "Eric, you should talk to him."

"Tell him I'm not home."

Tami sighed and relayed the lie. When she sat down, she said, "You really should call him back, Eric."

"Not today," Eric said, raising his beer bottle. "I just don't want to hear it from him today." He sipped and said, "I'm sure he read about all the undrafted free agents who have started signing contracts, and he's going to tell me again how I'm not even trying." He set his bottle down with a light plunk.

"Daddy twows bot-tle!" Julie said.

"Daddy doesn't throw bottles anymore, Monkey Noodle," he told her. "Daddy doesn't throw anything anymore."

"Daddy twows Julie! Up! Up! Up!"

He smiled. "After dinner. Daddy will toss Julie up just a little. And spin her." He looked at Tami. "And why is Daddy talking in the third person?"

"Because Daddy is a good daddy who loves his Julie."

 **[Saturday, May 2, 1992]**

Tami was studying for finals at the table in the breakfast nook while Julie lay languidly on the couch in the living room watching a Sesame Street video. The child had decided, at less than two years old, that she was giving up naps. Tami had tried to force the issue, but between work and school, she didn't have the energy to fight her daughter. So she'd opted on this compromise – vegging to the television.

When the phone rang, she popped off the pressure gate that was blocking off the kitchen. Julie had a habit of emptying lower cabinets and playing with oven knobs. She could climb over these gates, but she usually accepted them as a "Stay Out" sign.

Her father-in-law was on the other end of the line, and he asked for Eric. "He's not home."

"He's never home when I call," Mr. Taylor said skeptically.

"He's _really_ not here. He's interviewing today," she said. "For a teaching and coaching job in Hewitt."

"Already?" he asked.

"Well, we're about to graduate in a couple weeks. Any hire would be conditional on him completing that alternative certification program, of course."

"Huh. Well, listen, he's apparently decided not to return my calls, so would you relay to him a message for me?"

"What's that?"

"Tell him I don't understand his decision to quit playing football - "

"- I'm not going to tell him that."

"Wait, Tami. Just listen. Tell him that I don't understand his decision to quit playing football, _but_ I understand that it's his decision to make. Tell him that he's given me…" He stopped. He coughed. He cleared his throat. "Tell him that he's given me more than I ever gave away for him. He's given me a son I can be proud of, because he's a man with strong family feeling and a sense of responsibility and a willingness to work hard. A man of integrity. He's given me the daughter I never had, a young lady who is fiercely loyal and compassionate, and he's given me the cutest, sweetest granddaughter a man could ever ask for."

Tami, feeling relief for Eric and affection for her father-in-law, smiled. "I'll tell you what. Why don't I just tell him to call you, and then you tell him all that?"

"But _will_ he call me?"

"He will if I tell him to."

 **[*]**

When Julie was settled in bed that night, Tami approached Eric about calling his father.

"I don't need that stress in my life right now."

"Eric, I think he wants to apologize."

"My dad doesn't apologize."

"He absolutely does!" Tami insisted. "He apologized that time he punched the hole in the wall." Tami could see where Eric got his short fuse from, but also where he got his ability to self-reflect and admit his instinctive reactions could be wrong.

"He's just going to tell me I'm not trying hard enough again."

"I don't think he's going to tell you that, Eric. I talked to him. I think he wants to…he wants to make amends between you two."

"He heard Owings signed with the CFL yesterday and he's going to try to persuade me to. Talking to him is going to stress me out."

"Fine. I'll tell you what, sugar. If you go call him right now, when you're done talking to him, I'll give you a blow job. Would that de-stress you?"

He smiled, that little closed lipped grin he had, with a matching twinkle in his eye. "Is that a promise?"

"It's a promise."

"I'll make the call right now."

Tami went to their bedroom to read in order to give him some privacy. He came back to the bedroom just eight minutes later. Tami did not consider that to be a good sign at all. They clearly hadn't talked properly.

He began to undo his belt. He had on dress slacks and a button-down shirt, because he'd been dressed for an interview, and he looked more handsome than usual. "So, um…" he said, "you want to kneel for this? Or sit on the edge of the bed?"

"Are you serious?" she asked. "We have to talk about your conversation with your dad first."

"Why?"

Tami shook her head, but then she considered that she'd probably get more out of him after he was de-stressed anyway. She slid to sit on the end of the bed. "Come here," she told him. "Let's see if this gives me a good angle."

He smiled and pulled his belt from the loops. It dropped to the floor with a clang. He stepped closer and began gently stroking her hair while she undid his button and zipper. "You're tall," she said.

"The futon frame is really low."

She began to ease his pants down to his knees. "Tell me one of your fantasies."

"I used to fantasize about you doing this to me under the bleachers in high school."

"Before we were dating?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"After we started dating, but before you gave me…" He smiled and chuckled happily. "That coupon."

"Yeah?" she teasingly parted the flap of his boxers. "Tell me all about it, sugar. And if you stop, I stop." She leaned in and started with a single, taunting swirl of her tongue, the way she had the first time, when it was new to him.

"Cruel, cruel, girl," he muttered. He related his fantasy as best he could, but toward the end, he just said, "Yeah, you did that, Tami…and that, and…yes…God yes!…just like that….oh, Tami…you did it…just….like…. oh God….ohhhhhhhhh Goooooood…."

When he had recovered and put on the athletic shorts he wore as PJ bottoms, and she'd put on her night shirt, and they'd crawled into bed together, he kissed her neck and asked if she wanted him to "return the favor."

"I want you to _talk_ to me," she said. "About your conversation with your father."

He shrugged. "Not much to talk about. He said Andrew is sort of kind of but not really crawling."

"And?"

"And he thinks Mo McArnold won't make it out of training camp."

"And?"

"Karen's been doing really well in medical school this semester. She's going to accelerate her program. Finish her degree as early as she can. Wants to do her residency at Dallas Presbyterian when the time comes."

"And?" Tami asked.

"He's thinking of incorporating his remodeling business as an LLC, instead of sticking with the sole proprietorship model, for liability reasons."

Frustrated, Tami exclaimed, "Did he not talk to you about…you know… _important_ things?"

"He said something kind of strange," Eric answered.

"What's that?"

"He said, _there are more important things than football_."

"That's no so strange."

"It is coming from _him_. And then he said he was proud to have raised a son who turned out to be a man of good character."

"That's nice, right? I bet that made you feel good."

"Tami, he'll _always_ think I should have made it to the NFL."

"Maybe. But that doesn't mean he _isn't_ proud of you."

"Yeah," Eric said. "But not for that. He'll never get to be proud of me for _that_."

Tami sighed. "Eric, sometimes I think you're harder on your father than he is on you."

"Is that some kind of psycho…psycho…whatever?"

"I don't think there's anything at all psychotic about the statement."

"You know what I meant."

She propped herself up on an elbow and kissed him. He smiled beneath her lips. She adored that sleepy, happy smile of his. "Maybe I will allow you to return the favor."

"Mhmmm," he murmured, and kissed her lazily. "It would be my pleasure." He flipped her suddenly onto her back and began attacking her with kisses on her neck and over her shirt, all the way down to the hem. She giggled and pushed at him playfully while he slid up her nightshirt and hooked his fingers into the edge of her panties. "These have to come off, babe."

After he'd tossed them on the floor, he grew serious and attentive. Soon enough, she wasn't laughing anymore. She was digging her fingers into his hair, clutching the short, thick, strands, and begging him not to stop.


	47. May 1992: Graduation

**[Friday May 22, 1992]**

Tami's mother went crazy with the Polaroid. After the graduation ceremony, she made Tami pose on the porch of Pat Neff Hall holding her Baylor diploma; then pose next to Shelley, who was instructed by her mother to look at Tami's diploma with awe; then holding hands with Eric while they each held their diplomas in their free hands; then with Julie standing between them and holding both of their diplomas, one in each fist.

"If she makes us strike one more pose I'm going to stick my diploma in my eye," Eric told Tami.

"Just smile," Tami insisted.

Both families went out to dinner afterward, eating in a private, back room of a pub that Mom declared "too raucous" as they walked through the crowded front to the room Mr. Taylor had reserved for them. "This is _no_ place for children."

"Let it go, Barbara," Pastor John said.

"Well, I just think Garrett could have chosen a more appropriate place," Tami's mom whispered to her husband.

"Drop it, dearest." Pastor John put a hand on the small of her back and pushed her gently into the room.

Eric saw it, caught Tami's eye, and chuckled. Tami shook her head. That was about the most authoritarian thing she'd ever seen Pastor John do.

The room had two long tables that could seat about ten people each, a fireplace, and a window. The fireplace was, of course, unlit in May. There was no door, but an opening where a door might have been, so the room was largely closed off form the rest of the pub.

Andrew was strapped into the portable booster seat Tami had passed down to Karen, as Julie now insisted on sitting in an open booster on a normal chair on those rare occasions when they went out to eat. All nine of them sat at one table, leaving the other empty. Cards and presents were distributed and opened, after which a waitress finally tended to them, placing a children's menu in front of Julie.

"If it's no place for children, Barbara," Mr. Taylor asked, "why do you suppose they have children's menus?"

"I didn't mean for you to hear that, Garrett," she said. "I'm sorry. It just seems a little rowdy is all."

"We're in a college town. A bunch of seniors just graduated."

"I appreciate you reserving the room," Tami's mom assured him.

"Chick nugs!" Julie exclaimed, pointing to a picture on the menu. "Drink root beer!"

"You let her drink coke?" Mom asked.

"No," Tami said. "Sometimes kids ask for things, Mom, whether they get them or not."

"Did you ever hear back from that job in Hewitt?" Mr. Taylor asked Eric.

"They hired someone else," Eric said, "but I just got a job yesterday. I'll be teaching American History to 11th graders at Bowie High School in Arlington. Assuming I finish my certification program successfully."

"Which you will," Tami said.

"I'll be an assistant JV coach too," Eric continued. "I start August 10th. School starts the 24th."

"Arlington, Texas?" Mr. Taylor asked.

"Yeah. Of course Texas."

"You'll be about 35 minutes from us. Is that school in a safe neighborhood? Arlington has some pretty nasty neighborhoods."

"It's not in the best neighborhood," Eric admitted. Tami thought he sounded defensive. She'd interpreted her father-in-law's question as concern, while Eric had clearly interpreted it as an insult to his ability to provide for his family. "We're going to get a nice, safe apartment just outside the school zone. I'll _commute_ in."

"What's the pay?" Mr. Taylor asked.

"Good enough for just starting out. The coaching stipend is only $500, but that's typical for a JV assistant. The teacher's salary is $24,000. And I'll have benefits. Health care for the entire family. And don't tell me that's lower than a rookie CFL salary. I know it is, but it's better for my family, and there's opportunity for promotion, and Tami will be applying for a counseling job at nearby schools, and – "

"- Congratulations on the job, son. It'll be nice to have y'all nearby."

"I have some good news too," Shelley said before Eric could reply. "I'm engaged!"

Tami's heart dropped.

Karen smiled and looked at Tami's mother. Seeing from Mom's expression that this was not welcome news, she ceased smiling.

No one said a word for at least sixty seconds, when Pastor John spoke. "To whom?"

"Javier, of course, silly John."

Pastor John cleared his throat. "You know how your mother and I feel about that age difference."

"Interesting," Shelley said, "because you're ten years older than my mother."

"There's a considerably larger difference between 27 and 19 than between 52 and 42, Shelley, dear," Mom said.

"Yes, _two years_ ," Shelley retorted. "John, you have two more years on my mother than Javier has on me. And Mr. Taylor is, what, seven, eight years older than _his_ wife?"

Karen and Mr. Taylor preoccupied themselves with their son, as though Andrew were suddenly in need of having the close attention of two parents.

"Marriage is a lifelong commitment, Shelley," Pastor John said, "and should be based on a certain level of compatibility."

"We're totally compatible."

"In what manner?" Pastor John asked.

"We both love adventure, and love to laugh, and watch sunsets, and…we're compatible in _other_ ways too."

Tami did not like to think of her baby sister having sex with a man who was closer to thirty than to twenty. "Shelley," Tami told her, "two years ago that relationship would have been _illegal_."

" _Three_ years ago," Shelley insisted. "Two years ago I'd have been 17, which is the age of consent, Tami."

"You get my point."

"And this isn't three years ago. This is today."

"Shelley," Mom said sharply, "This was supposed to be Tami's special day. We'll discuss this later."

"There's nothing to discuss, Mom. I'm an adult. I'm getting married on August 1st at Saint Mary's Cathedral in Austin. You can come or not. Tami, I hope you'll be my maid of honor."

"That's less than three months away!" Tami exclaimed. Was this the girl who stepped away from the bouquet at her wedding and said she wasn't tying herself down?

"Funny, Tam, that you find that so alarming. If I recall, you and Eric were engaged for about three _weeks_ before you got married."

"We'd been dating for almost two years."

"Javier and I have been dating for almost a year."

"You knew each other for a _month_ in Spain," Tami corrected her. "And he's been here in the U.S. for only three months. What's the hurry?" Tami prayed to God that her sister wasn't pregnant.

"The hurry is that he's madly in love with me and he wants to make me his wife."

"Shelley," Pastor John said, "I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but has it occurred to you that come August 1, Javier will have been in the U.S. for just under six months, and a B2 tourist visa expires in six months?"

"Are you suggesting he's marrying me to stay in America? I can't believe you! I can't…I just…." Shelley burst into tears, rose, and ran from the room.

"Oh Good Lord," Mom said.

"I'll go talk to her," Tami said, but Pastor John stood.

"I will," he said. "I'm the one who made her cry." He left the room.

Mr. Taylor and Karen were peering at each other across Andrew's booster high chair. Mom was shaking her head. Julie was scribbling all over her menu with the crayon the waitress had given her and, Tami just now noticed, also the table. Tami snatched the crayon from her before she could do any further damage, and Julie wailed.

"Well," Eric said. "It's always good to get the families together."

 **[Monday, May 16, 1992]**

Tami slid closed the filing cabinet. Until the end of May, she was working at the Baylor Admission Office from 8 to 3. Since Eric's youth football program was 3:30 to 7, they could dispense with childcare for the time being. She walked back to her desk, sat down in her chair, and considered what she might do for temporary work in June and July, while they lived with her mother in Tyler and Eric got certified to teach.

She should have a counseling job, she thought, by the time they moved to Arlington in August, but in the meantime she supposed she could go back to work at her old stomping grounds – Chili's. She didn't relish the idea of waitressing again, but she needed to start paying down those student loans, and her mother would watch Julie while she worked. She still had the restaurant's phone number memorized, and she was just about to call to ask about openings when the phone rang.

"Baylor Admissions Office. This is Tami Taylor. How may I help you?"

"Your professional voice is very pleasant."

"Uh…thank you."

There was a laugh. "You don't recognize my voice?"

"Mr. Taylor?"

"Please, Tami, it's been over two years since you married my son. _At least_ call me Garrett."

"Is everything all right, Garrett?" She couldn't imagine why he was calling her at work.

"I have a proposal for you and Eric," he said.

"Why are you calling me and not Eric?"

"Because I know how these things work."

"What things?" she asked.

He ignored the question. "There's one of those intensive, alternative teacher certification programs Eric wants to take here in Dallas," he said. "Starts June 1 and ends July 31. You two need to look for an apartment in Arlington. It makes no sense for y'all to live with your mother in Tyler, when she's two hours from Arlington and Karen and I are only 30 minutes. And we've lost our part-time nanny."

" _Lost_ her?"

"Well, she's _found_ a husband. I'm swamped with business this summer, and Karen is in summer school full time. We need child care. We've got room to put your stuff in storage. You move in with us, take the guest bedroom, we put Julie on her bed in Andrew's room. You watch Andrew this summer, and in exchange y'all get free room and board and I pay Eric's tuition for the certification program, the deposit on your apartment when you sign the lease, and the first two month's rent."

Tami saw what Mr. Taylor was doing. He was trying to slip his son money without injuring Eric's pride. "I don't think Eric's going to go for that. He's not going to want you to pay for all of those things."

"It would be payment for you watching Andrew. I paid the nanny quite a bit. Would it be better if I just paid you, say, $10 an hour?"

"That's $3.50 an hour more than I make now! As an _administrative_ secretary."

"Well, this job entails a lot of administrative work. A lot of scheduling is involved with kids. Research. And Andrew is far more valuable than a collection of files."

She laughed. "I'll talk to Eric about it," she said. It did make more practical sense for them to live near Arlington.

That night, while Julie played in the living room, Eric and Tami sat at the table in the breakfast nook, keeping one eye on her and talking.

"I don't want to live with my dad," Eric said.

"I thought you didn't want to live with my mom."

"At least they have two extra bedrooms. What if Andrew wakes Julie up at night?"

"Then I'll get her back to sleep. Look, Eric, you'll be in that program full-time, with no income until mid-August. I don't have a job lined up yet. This is a convenient opportunity, a way to earn some easy money. We'll also be close enough to Arlington to take our time apartment shopping."

"I'm not crawling back with my tail between my legs after failing to make the NFL to live in my dad's basement."

"He doesn't have a basement, Eric. It's only two months. And he needs the help with Andrew. We'd be doing _him_ a favor. Otherwise I have to find temporary work. This way I can spend the entire summer with Julie before I start a new job. I owe her that time. I missed too much. And I don't want to go back to work at Chili's, or temp at some office."

"What if we have to listen to my dad and Karen have…" Eric glanced at Julie, who was happily preoccupied in the living room with a tower of blocks, "sex?"

"That _really_ scarred you that one time, didn't it, sweetheart?" Tami laughed. "They didn't _know_ we were in the house. I'm sure they'll keep it down when we're living there."

"What if they hear _us_ having sex?"

"Well, we could just not have sex for two months if you prefer."

"I don't prefer!"

"You know, if we live with my mother, no beer in the house."

"I'll sneak Pastor John's whiskey. I know where he stashes it."

"And we might have to hear _them_ have sex."

"We can go for a walk during their weekly Sabbath _nap_."

"You'd have to listen to my mother complain about things."

Eric winced and nodded. "She does complain a lot."

"Your dad doesn't complain. He could be sawing with a broken arm and he'd say," she imitated his deep voice, " _it's just a little broken bone_."

Eric laughed.

"And he always has beer in the house. And you'd get to spend more time this summer with your baby brother. Don't you want to spend more time connecting with him?"

"Tami, he's eight months old. We aren't exactly going to spend weekends tossing the football and talking about girls."

She laughed. "Should we flip a coin?" she asked. "You want me to flip a coin?"

"I want to flip you. Over my knee. For suggesting we move in with my father."

She shook her head at him. He smiled. His smile grew into a grin.

"What are you fantasizing about right now, sugar?"

He leaned across the table, laced his fingers through hers, and gave her his best smoldering gaze. "You really want to know what I'm fantasizing about, babe?"

She laughed, a little amused and a little turned on at the same time. "What's that, sugar?"

"Having our own apartment."


	48. June 1-12: Biding Time

**[June 1992]**

In the battle between which family would receive the pleasure of housing Eric and Tami for two months, the Taylors won.

"Sometimes I think you like your father-in-law better than your own mother," Tami's mom grumbled when she told her of their decision.

"This is just more practical, Mom."

Eric was gone all day for his certification program, and so was Karen, for her med school classes and study groups, while Mr. Taylor was in and out of the house, sometimes on a job site but sometimes hammering and sawing away in his garage shop, sometimes preparing invoices in his study, and sometimes calling his workers on the kitchen phone. He'd even get paged late in the evening some nights. They really _had_ needed Tami to watch Andrew.

"So much for flexing your schedule," she told her father-in-law one afternoon when he was home for lunch between job sites.

"I'm working a lot now so that I can get things in place so I can be more flexible later," he said as he handed Andrew his sippy cup.

"Isn't that what you said when Andrew was born nine months ago?"

"Well, these things take time. And I didn't expect my business to grow so much so fast. I've essentially started a contracting company. A _real_ company. I've got eight men working under me now. I'm not just a handyman anymore." Mr. Taylor petted his son's head where the infant sat in his high chair. "Andrew could grow up in the family business. I could train him up in it, and he could inherit it. He'd be set for life."

"Not grooming Andrew for the NFL?" she asked with a smirk.

"No reason he can't do both," Mr. Taylor said. "Play pro a few years, then take over the business empire from me after he retires from the NFL." His smile told Tami he was only joking. _Mostly_.

Everyone was busy. Tami, Eric, and Mr. Taylor took turns cooking, but Karen didn't get home from classes until 7:40, when she would read to Andrew and cuddle with him and put him to bed and then reheat a plate of food that she'd eat on the couch before the television, her feet up on the coffee table, looking exhausted. Karen and Mr. Taylor were not often together; at night, she would sometimes go back out again to a study group, or Mr. Taylor would retreat to his garage shop or his study to work.

One Saturday afternoon, when Karen was at a seminar, Eric and Mr. Taylor disappeared onto the back porch for two hours with a six pack of beer. Tami was a little irked they had left her alone with the kids she'd already cared for _all_ week, but she was glad to see Eric and his father reconnecting.

Eric seemed relaxed when they came back in.

"What did y'all talk about?" she asked.

"Football, cars, and women," Eric said.

"What women?" she wanted to know.

He smiled. "Our favorite ones."

Mr. Taylor trailed in behind his son, two empty beer bottles in each hand. "Why don't we take the kids to the park, son, and give Tami some time to herself?"

Tami used the time to follow up on the resumes she'd sent out to the various Arlington schools, leaving cheerful messages on office answering machines, wondering why no one had yet called her for an interview.


	49. June 14-16: An Argument

**[Monday, June 14]**

Eric and Tami tended to go to bed early so they could talk in privacy or make love quietly. Tonight they did both, the lovemaking first, with the ceiling fan cooling them from above, pumping its blades rapidly overhead while Eric pumped in and out of her.

Tami's legs were spread and her ankles hooked about his calves. He supported himself by the palms of his hands to keep the weight off of her. He watched her breasts move in the dim glow of the bedside lamp as she chased the pleasure with her own eager thrusts.

"Beautiful," he told her, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful, Tami. Damn, I love the feel of you."

As the wave mounted inside her, she closed her eyes and dug her fingers into his hips.

"That's right," he told her. "Cum for me, babe. Cum for me." The breathy urgency of his command told her that he was precariously close to the edge himself and he wanted her to climax before it was too late.

Fortunately, she was so near herself, that the deep, commanding tone of his voice was enough to send her over. Her back arched, her eyes opened, and she let out a loud cry of pleasure.

"Shhh!" Eric lowered his head, as if to silence her by covering her mouth with his own, but before he could, he was overwhelmed by his own release. His cry eclipsed hers before he could bury it in the pillow. He collapsed with a shudder atop her.

Breathing heavily, he rolled off of her. She turned on her side, kissed his cheek, slung a leg over both of his, and settled her chin on his shoulder. "You're so paranoid about being heard," she said. "These walls are pretty thick. We haven't heard _them_."

Eric licked his lips and swallowed. She could tell he was struggling to regain his composure, but surely he knew the drill by now. She _always_ wanted to talk after sex.

He took another moment before his breathing mostly leveled. "Maybe because they _aren't_ doing it," he said.

"What makes you think that?"

"They're so busy. And Andrew's only nine months. The first year after Julie...we didn't do it that much."

"Yes we did!"

"Once a week, maybe."

"Twice a week," Tami insisted, "at _least_." She raised her head and peered down at him. "Is this what you and your dad were talking about Saturday when you were talking about _women_? Were you telling him how sore deprived you were that year?"

"No," he insisted.

She didn't believe him. She lay her head back down and hrmphed.

"I _didn't,"_ Eric insisted. "You think I'm going to talk about my sex life to my dad? But he sort of casually asked what I thought was a _normal_ amount for the year after a kid was born. And I got the impression he and Karen haven't been...you know...as active as he'd like."

"Well no amount is ever enough for you men," Tami complained. "I suppose you reassured him that you were starved too?"

"I just said it gets better." He changed the subject. "How was your day?"

Tami decided to let it slide. "Good. I took the kids to the park. Not for long, though. It was _hot_. We couldn't touch half of the stuff. But the sandbox is shaded."

"Hear from any of those schools you applied to?"

"No. I guess maybe they're waiting until July to interview, when school is out of session. How was your certification program today?"

"Awful," he told her. "They made us play this stupid game where we put a famous person's name on everyone's back and had to ask each other questions to guess who we were. I didn't even know who some of the famous people were. They didn't even have a single football player!"

She chuckled. "And what was the point of that exercise?"

"They were telling us how we could do ice breakers in our class the first week of school. But we're not going to be doing any stupid games in my classes. My students are all going to sit down, shut up, and learn."

"Sounds like you're going to be a fun teacher."

"I don't _want_ to be a fun teacher," he said. "I want to be that teacher everybody hates, but then, five years later, when they're seniors in college, they say to themselves, I'm so glad I had that guy for American History. If it weren't for him, I never would have learned to sit down, shut up, and learn."

Tami kissed his cheek and smiled. "But learning can be fun, Eric. Good teachers make learning fun."

"I made learning Algebra II pretty damn fun for you, didn't I?" He winked.

"You better not be using that instructional method with those 11th grade girls."

He shot her a disgusted look.

She laughed. But then her face grew serious. "Honestly, though, hon, be careful. Some of those girls are going to be stopping by after class, asking you for extra help, flirting with you…Keep the door open anytime you're in the room alone with a girl."

"What are you implying?"

"Eric, you're good-looking. You're only going to be six years older than those girls. And some teenage girls can be aggressive. Trust me on this. Just be careful. I know. I was one of those girls who was happy to flirt with a cute, young teacher."

"What? Who?"

"Mr. Bell. He was twenty-one. Tenth grade English."

"Is he the one who got fired?"

She nodded.

"Because of you?"

She smacked him on the shoulder. "No! Not because of me. I had no intention to follow through. But I think he did cross the line with _someone_." She shook her head. "We _all_ flirted with him. All of us girls. We had no idea how foolish we were being, how dangerous it was. And he did _not_ nip that in the bud the way he should have."

"I hope you know I'm not a pervert like Mr. Bell."

"I don't think he was exactly a _pervert_ , Eric. We weren't eleven. But I think he abused his authority. And yes, of course I know you would never do such a thing. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying you have to be careful to protect _yourself_."

"Yeah, I know, they told us all that. That's one of the things we're learning about. All the cover-your-ass guidelines. Hundreds of them. Someday they're going to have to make teachers get law degrees just to teach."

They talked awhile longer, like two kids at a slumber party, both falling asleep somewhere in the midst of the conversation.

 **[Tuesday, June 15]**

"Hi! This is Tami Taylor," Tami said cheerfully. "I'm a graduate of the psychology program at Baylor University, and I shot y'all over my resume a few weeks ago for the guidance counselor position, and I was just calling to see if you'd - "

" - We filled that position in-house already," the school secretary said curtly.

"Oh. How do you fill a counselor position in-house? You mean a teacher stepped into that job?"

"We hired a counselor from another school within Arlington ISD that needed fewer counselors next year. She has ten years of experience."

"Oh. Okay. Well thank you for your time."

Tami put down the kitchen phone and sighed. She crossed another school off her list.

"No luck?" Mr. Taylor asked as he screwed the cap on Andrew's sippy cup and set it on his tray. He also placed some cooked carrots before his son and then cleared his own lunch plate from the table.

"Not yet," Tami said. "But I'm sure things will turn around."

"They'd be fools not to hire you," Mr. Taylor assured her as he grabbed the tool belt he'd draped on the back of a kitchen chair and began to snap it on. He liked to try to make it home at Andrew's lunch time, but then he typically returned to the field, or retreated to his garage shop, or did administrative work in his study. "I've got to get back to the job site. Y'all have a good day."

"Bye, bye, grampa," Julie told him.

 **[Wednesday, June 16, 1992]**

One night, as they lay drifting off to sleep, Eric and Tami were startled awake by sounds rising and falling from Karen and Garrett's bedroom, not the loud sex that had once reddened Eric, but something worse. An argument.

Much of the argument was muffled, but every now and then a raised voice would reach them. Mr. Taylor yelling, "You're never home for dinner!"

Karen yelling back, "You knew my goals when you married me!"

Mr. Taylor, responding with muffled words that concluded with a clear "What about Andrew?" More muffled words, followed by, "only going to get worse" (muffle, muffle) "start your residency!"

Then Karen, "Well," (muffle, muffle) "working much more than you said you would" (muffle, muffle) "repairs" (muffle, muffle) "invoices" (muffle, muffle) "plans" (muffle, muffle) "in the garage until midnight last Saturday!" (muffle, muffle) "double standard!" (muffle, muffle) "…is good for the gander!"

Mr. Taylor: "Really, Karen (muffle, muffle) you're supposed to (muffle, muffle), I mean, for God's sake, _you're_ his _mother_!"

Karen, loudly: "How dare you!"

Eric put the pillow over his ears and winced.

A door slammed.

When silence followed, Eric eased his face out from under the pillow, peered at Tami, and said, "I hope they're okay. They've got a kid now."


	50. June 17: Counselor Tami

**[Thursday, June 17]**

When Tami and Eric emerged from the bedroom in the morning, Mr. Taylor was retreating from the living room down the hall toward his bedroom with a blanket in one hand and a pillow in the other.

Eric watched him disappear. "She sent him to the couch," he said, his tone worried. "You've never done that."

"Maybe he sent himself." Tami put a comforting hand on his back. "You should talk to him."

"And what?" Eric asked. "Tell my own _father_ how to handle his marriage?"

"Just bring up the fight and listen to what he has to say," Tami suggested.

Eric shook his head. "I can't even begin to imagine how that conversation would go."

"So what are you going to do? Pretend you don't know they're fighting?" Tami asked.

"Yes. That's precisely what I'm going to do. If he wants my advice, he'll ask for it. I told him all I knew to tell him Saturday anyway. When he _did_ ask my advice. More or less."

"And what _did_ you tell him?" Tami asked as they walked toward the kitchen. Tami started the coffee while Eric got out a pan and the bacon. He wasn't in training anymore, but he still ate a hearty meat breakfast. Tami typically snagged a slice of bacon or two herself.

"I told him it's hard when a baby is young. That it's tiring for both of you, especially when you're both working a lot, and sometimes you've just got to find a way to make time for each other." The bacon started sizzling in the pan. "And I told him about that one fight you and I had, when I spent the night at Stumpy's dorm. And then he told me that was foolish, and I should never let the sun go down on my wrath." He snickered. "Guess he didn't take his own advice." Then he frowned. "I really hope they're okay. Maybe you should talk to Karen."

"What, and give my _step mother-in-_ law marriage advice?" Tami shot back sarcastically.

He flipped the bacon. "You know all that counseling mumbo jumbo."

"Mumbo jumbo?" Tami muttered as she drew down a coffee cup. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I _am_ confident in your ability, babe. That's _why_ I'm suggesting you talk to her. I just mean I don't understand all that the way you do. It's Greek to me."

He fell silent as Karen came in the kitchen. She was dressed for success and looking quite put together, with Andrew on her hip. The baby was still rubbing sleep dust from his eyes. "Julie's still sound asleep," Karen told Tami. "I'm going to feed Andrew, and then I have to get going to classes."

Tami would not have gotten dressed _before_ attempting to feed a nine month old, but she supposed Karen was more daring. At any rate, the woman miraculously made it through the adventure without having to change her clothes. Eric kept giving Tami suggestive looks as he ate his bacon, but she didn't say anything to Karen. Not yet. Tami didn't feel the time was right, with Andrew and Eric both right there, and the woman in a hurry to get out of the house.

Karen left Andrew strapped into the booster for the time being, as he was amused with cheerios, and filled a travel mug with coffee. "Y'all have a nice day," she said, "and Tami, thank you again for all of your help this summer. I don't know how we'd handle Garret's workload without you."

"Or _your_ class load," Eric noted.

"Any of it," Karen said. "Before Andrew was born, Garret said he was going to be able to flex his schedule so we'd only need a nanny half-time, but the last one worked forty hours, and obviously we've needed Tami full-time too."

"Well I'm enjoying it," Tami assured her honestly. She'd needed a break from all of the studying and office work; as stressful as kids could sometimes be, spending time with Julie and Andrew in mindless activities had been a nice temporary change of pace for her.

Mr. Taylor entered the kitchen, wearing jeans and a short sleeve shirt and his heavy workboots. He greeted Andrew with a kiss, but when he leaned in to kiss his wife, she swirled away and walked toward the kitchen entryway, saying, "I'm headed out."

"When will you be home tonight?" Mr. Taylor called to her back.

"About 8:30," she told him as she grabbed her purse from the counter. "You know I have that big test on Friday. I have to meet my study group after classes. I'll just eat with them." Businesslike, she strutted out of the kitchen.

Mr. Taylor stood frowning by the coffee pot.

"Got some bacon left, Dad, if you want it," Eric said from where he sat at the table. His voice wavered with discomfort.

"I have to get to a job site." Mr. Taylor drew down a travel mug, filled it, and was gone.

Eric and Tami caught each other's eyes. Eric sighed. He stood, put his plate in the sink, and walked over and kissed her softly. "I love you," he whispered. "Tell Julie I love her when she wakes up. I've got to get to my program. I hope you have a good day."

"You too, sugar," she said.

"Not sure I will. I think we're doing another asinine team building exercise today. You have no idea how inane these certification classes are."

"Just a few more weeks," Tami reassured him. "And you'll be qualified to teach."

He laughed. "I don't know about _qualified_. But they'll _let_ me teach anyway."

 **[*]**

That afternoon, Mr. Taylor came home for lunch and kissed Andrew's head where the little one sat at the kitchen table. Tami had already strapped him in and was preparing separate, age-appropriate lunches for the two kids.

"Pwetty!" Julie exclaimed, pointing to the flowers Mr. Taylor was holding in a plastic shopping bag in one hand. "My flowers?"

"Grandma's," he said, kissing his granddaughter on the head. "But you can look at them all you like."

Mr. Taylor drew a glass vase out from under the sink and, on the nearby counter top, began cutting the stems to varying lengths and arranging the flowers rapidly and expertly inside the vase. He set them in an obviously visible spot.

"You could be a florist," Tami said. "Why are you so good at arranging flowers?"

"I dated for fifteen years. I've bought a lot of flowers in my time."

"Fifteen years?" Tami asked.

"I didn't date until Eric was three. Couldn't find the time for it."

"It must be great **_not_ ** to have to date anymore though, huh?" she asked. She'd learned to ask leading questions during her counseling practicum. She thought counselors and detectives must have something in common.

"I don't know," he said. "Dating was expensive, but it wasn't so bad. Women seemed to like me a great deal. They were always attentive. Always happy to make time for me."

 _Uh-oh_ , Tami thought.

He leaned back against the counter and looked at his son. "I'll feed Andrew," he said, and he did, between bites of his own sandwich.

After she'd refilled Julie's sippy cup for her, Tami sat down at the table and asked, "Did you have any _serious_ relationships before Karen?" Given that he'd kept his dating life from his son, she wondered if he had. Everyone always put on their best face when they started dating. It wasn't until awhile in to it that you learned each other's flaws and had to come to grips with them, that you were forced to make meaningful compromises. Putting aside that mistaken night at the party when she was 15, Tami had only had two relationships in her life, but both had been serious. She thought if she had dated casually for many years, she might have become habituated to that initial high of being admired, of enjoying each other without much effort, and found it difficult to roll up her sleeves and do the work that maintaining a relationship required.

Mr. Taylor glanced at Julie. She wasn't quite two. She was more communicative than Andrew (who said only "ma ma" and "da da"), but she wasn't going to follow this conversation. Still, as Mr. Taylor seemed reluctant to speak in her presence, and Julie was finished with her lunch, Tami excused her from the table and told her she could go play in the living room. She'd been in the middle of a block building adventure when they started lunch. When she was gone, Mr. Taylor answered. "I dated one woman at a time. Some I dated longer than others, some not more than a few weeks, but I wasn't a playboy."

"I didn't think you were. I was just curious if Karen was your most serious dating relationship."

"Obviously. I married her. I'd say that's pretty serious."

Tami wasn't getting anywhere with this line of inquiry. She tried a more direct approach. "Did you ever come close to marrying anyone else?"

"So you're of Eric's opinion, then?"

"What?" she asked.

"That afternoon we were talking on the porch...he asked me if I just married the woman I happened to be dating when he left for college. If I'd been waiting for him to leave. If I would have married whoever I was dating at the time."

"Oh. No. I didn't...I didn't mean that. Did...would you have? Married whoever you happened to be dating at the time?"

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe. I was tired of being alone."

"Doesn't sound like the best reason to marry someone," Tami said.

"I never got past one date with a woman I wasn't attracted to. I never got past two dates with a woman I didn't respect. And I never got past three dates with a woman whose company I didn't regularly enjoy. So I don't see why I _couldn't_ have married whoever I happened to be dating at the time. Are there better grounds for marriage than respect, attraction, and enjoying someone's company?"

"Love?"

"Well, I do love Karen."

"Compatibility?" Tami asked.

Here he did not immediately respond. He sort of nodded and stared absently at his son, who was making a "Voooom" sound with his lips while pushing a lone corn puff around his tray. He pointed to Andrew. "Right now, this is the one thing Karen and I have most in common."

"It's an important thing to have in common," Tami said. "I'd say it's a stronger bond than liking the same sports." "And you both have ambition in common. You're both ambitious personalities." When he didn't reply, she ventured, "I guess, though, that point of commonality can also breed conflict, when you're both pursuing your ambitions and trying to raise a child."

"Yeah. I guess so." He stood. "I need to get to work on some plans. Thank you for the sandwich." He cleared his plate.

When the kids were down for their afternoon naps - which for Julie was just vegging in front of a VHS tape of Looney Tunes cartoons - Tami grabbed a beer and dared to venture into the garage.

Mr. Taylor had music playing loudly on his boom box. He must have soundproofed the garage, because she hadn't heard it in the house. She clunked the beer down on his workbench, a few feet from the kitchen blueprints he was drawing up. "Thought you might like some nourishment," she said over the sound of the music.

He smiled. He slid the pen he was using behind his ear and turned off the music. "Thank you. Beer is very nourishing." He raised it to his lips and took a slow swig.

"Who's that?" she asked. "That you were listening to?"

"T-Bone Walker. Before your time I imagine."

"I took you for a country music fan."

"Texas blues more like."

"Does Karen like blues?" Tami asked.

With a slight smile, he shook his head. "Classical. And jazz. I hate jazz. Classical is okay for background music."

Tami thought it was time to tackled this head on. "I noticed you leaving the couch this morning."

Her father-in-law put down his beer, removed the pen from behind his ear, and busied himself with his blueprints.

Tami wasn't daunted by his refusal to engage. "I guess the work-family balance is never as easy as it seems. I know it wasn't for me and Eric either. I mean, you warned me I was biting off more than I could chew, but…" She shook her head. "Eric and I had our share of arguments over it, but we learned to talk things through, calmly. Listening to each other. Sharing our feelings."

"I'm a man, Tami. I don't have feelings."

"That's ridiculous, Garrett."

"Is it?" he asked, drawing a line against a ruler on his blueprint. "Tell that to my wife. She seems to think it's ridiculous I should have _any_ feelings on the matter."

"Well, maybe if you talked about how you felt more _calmly_ , and if you took the time to really _listen_ to her first, about why this medical career is so important to her, and – "

He straightened up. "- May I ask you something, Tami?"

"Sure."

"Why do you imagine this is any of your business?"

"Well, Garrett, you're family. You're family and Andrew is my brother-in-law. So I think it is my business, actually."

He chuckled. "I imagine there's not much you don't consider to be your business."

"If you're trying to make me feel insulted so I get angry and back off, it isn't going to work."

"I'm not _trying_ to do anything. I'm just making an observation." He went back to working on his blueprints, but, to Tami's surprise, he kept talking. "I knew Karen wanted to go to med school when we got married. I knew that was her plan. But I thought…I don't know. When Andrew came, I thought some motherly feeling would cause her to scale back and slow down. It did at first. But then…" He tossed the pen with a slap against his workbench and straightened.

"Then what?" Tami urged him.

He put a hand on either of his hips and looked at his plans instead of her. "She just went back to charging full steam ahead. And I know we discussed me flexing my schedule so I could be the parent who was home a bit more, but I didn't know I was going to be so successful here in Dallas, and now I feel like I'm finally achieving something, for the first time since I was dreaming of playing professional ball, I _finally_ feel like I could do something _great_ with my career _._ And also…." He tilted his head back and forth and sighed. "I'm also realizing that when it comes to these sorts of domestic things…well…I'm not nearly as enlightened as I imagined I was. I _want_ Karen home more. Not just for Andrew, but for me. I _miss_ her."

"Have you ever thought of telling her all this?" Tami asked softly. "You know, telling her honestly and openly how you _really_ feel, instead of shouting about her schedule and accusing her of being a bad mother? Because that kind of puts her on the defensive."

He looked at her sharply. "What makes you think I accused her of being a bad mother?"

"We heard some shouting last night. I inferred from what I overheard – "

" –I didn't _say_ that," Mr. Taylor insisted. "Though I suppose it might have been what she _heard_." He rubbed his eyes. "I just …I don't want to do this again. I don't want to raise another son practically alone."

"So _tell_ her all this. Work out a compromise."

He smiled lightly, a smirk…affectionate or condescending, Tami couldn't quite tell. Maybe it was a little of both. "How old are you, Tami?"

"Twenty-two." That sounded horribly young to be giving advice, now that she had said it out loud. "I'll be twenty-three in five months."

"Twenty-two." He nodded and repeated, "twenty-two." He shook his head. "Well, I'll tell you what. I'm not young enough to know everything. So I guess I'd better listen to you."


	51. June 17 con't: Honesty

**[Thursday, June 17 _continued_ ]**

Tami left her father-in-law in the garage and went to clean up the kitchen. He came in a few minutes later and threw his empty beer bottle into the trash. It rattled against a soup can.

Tami leaned the broom against the counter top. "I'm sorry if you feel I crossed the line in there. But I said what I did because I care about you and Karen both."

"Can I let you in on a little secret, Tami?"

"Okay," she said hesitantly.

"I'm a man. I don't like being told what I should do. Even if the person telling me is probably right."

The left side of the Tami's mouth twitched into a smile.

Her father-in-law, however, seemed to grimace involuntarily. "But let me ask you this. Say I take your advice. Say I tell my wife honestly - and calmly - how I feel. And say she doesn't care. What then?"

"Garrett, she's going to _care_. But you have to care about her concerns too."

"I _do_ care. That's why I haven't done half as much as I could have done by now with this business. You have no idea how many opportunities for expansion I've turned down."

"Does Karen?"

"I...I guess not. But I _have_ told her I want her home more. I've been clear about that. And she doesn't care. She just accuses me of taking back my promise to be the one who's home more."

" _Did_ you make that promise?"

He looked at his work boots and swallowed. "I thought I was toward the end of my career," he muttered. He looked back up. "I didn't know I was going to be able to build a _real_ business from the ground up. And now that I'm doing it...it's _thrilling_. I haven't felt this way since I was on the cusp of going pro. But I feel like she doesn't even notice what I've accomplished. Like it doesn't impress her at all."

Tami decided not to interrupt. It was remarkable that her father-in-law was telling her any of this, and she didn't want to dissuade him from opening up.

"I just want to impress her," he continued. "Like I used to. She used to say I was talented and charming and...hell, now it's as if I'm not even here. It's always about Andrew or med school or how she's going to be a doctor one day. I'm just the guy who helps take care of our son and fixes things around the house. What if I tell her how I feel, and it turns out that I'm really _not_ that important to her? What if she just married me because I fit into her plans - because I had this supposedly flexible career, and she wanted to hurry up and have a kid?"

"You don't believe that, do you?" Tami asked. She was a little stunned by this sudden torrent of vulnerability. The Taylor men were all steel on the outside, but peel that first layer away...

"I don't know," he said. "And I'm not sure I want to find out."

"So it's easier for you to get mad at her and imply she's a bad mother than it is to be honest and risk rejection?"

"You tell me, counselor." His buzzer went off. He went to the kitchen phone and made a call. "He did what?" he half shouted into the phone. "No. No. That's the second time that's happened. I'll come and fix it. And he has to go. I don't care whose cousin he is. You need to take care of that." He hung up the phone. "I've got to get to a site."

 **[*]**

When Mr. Taylor got home from the site that evening, Eric was already clearing the dinner table. "Sorry I'm late," he said as he washed his hands in the kitchen sink. He'd already shed his tool belt somewhere. "I'll pay you overtime, Tami."

"No need," she told him.

Mr. Taylor wiped down Andrew's tray and freed him from the high chair. He hugged his son and kissed him before setting him down to crawl after his niece to the living room. He then grabbed his plate from the fridge and reheated it in the microwave. Eric got a couple of beers, popped them open, handed his father one, and sat back at the table while Tami did the dishes.

"You're not worried about them in there alone?" Mr. Taylor asked.

"Tami has gates up," Eric said. "And the breakable stuff is out of reach. Busy day?"

"Yep."

"When's Karen get home?"

"8:30. How was the certification thing?"

"Awful as usual," Eric replied. "We talked about reporting requirements today. Sounds like a lot of unnecessary paperwork."

"Every job has its share of unnecessary paperwork. I have to a fire a guy, and I've got to document my reasons in painstaking detail so I don't get sued."

"That must suck. To have to let someone go," Eric said.

"It would if I had to do it for economic reasons, but he's just incompetent. Someone more worthy will be taking his place. It does feel good to be employing people, though, to know they have a livelihood because of me."

"It's good to be king," Eric said.

"It's not like that."

"Sure it is," Eric said. "Nothing wrong with wanting to be king. I'd love to be head coach of a team one day." He tapped the table. "So the buck stops here."

Mr. Taylor chuckled. He shoveled food into his mouth for a bit and then said, "Your friend Stumpy - he's majoring in mechanical engineering?"

"Yeah. He's on the five-year plan. He'll graduate in May."

"When he gets his degree, have him shoot me his resume."

"You need a mechanical engineer?" Eric asked. "You can _afford_ a mechanical engineer?"

"Yes, if I get this one contract. I'm looking to put in a bid on some new build houses in the spring, and I want someone to design a more efficient central air conditioning system."

"I thought you were just remodeling kitchens."

"I do that too. But if my company gets this job - it's going to be the whole kit n' caboodle."

Tami turned off the water and left them alone to talk.

Later, Eric and Mr. Taylor tucked the kids in. Julie typically remained awake babbling to Andrew for half an hour, but the baby usually fell asleep during her monologue. After emerging from the nursery, Eric slid down on the couch and draped an arm around Tami. Mr. Taylor passed by and announced that he was going to bed.

"It's only 8:00," Eric said.

"I'm tired," his father answered. "And I suppose if I'm already asleep when she comes home, my wife won't kick me out of bed."

Eric shot Tami a worried look as his father retreated down the hall.

"I talked to your father this afternoon," she told him.

"Yeah? And? Did he tell you to butt out?"

"At first. But then he was pretty vulnerable with me." She told him what Mr. Taylor had told her.

"Wow."

"Yeah. Wow. They _seriously_ need to talk."

"Think they'll work it out?" Eric asked.

"Eventually."

She cuddled up, head on his shoulder, while they watched a _Mad About You_ summer re-run. On those occasions when Eric ventured beyond football, he liked light comedies. So did Tami. It was one of their few common interests. She thought about what Mr. Taylor had said, about not having much in common with Karen. "Do you think we're compatible?" she asked.

Eric peered down at her with a questioning look. "Hell yeah." He returned his attention to the TV. His chest rumbled beneath her. She smiled. She loved it when he laughed.

She waited for the commercial to ask her next question. "What _do_ we have in common? I mean, I'm not that into football. You're not at all interested in psychology. You like rock music. I like country. You're introverted. I'm extroverted. You like to plan everything. I like to be more spontaneous. Are we compatible?"

"Of course we're compatible!" he exclaimed. "Those personality difference balance each other. And you may not _love_ football, but you _like_ it well enough. You've made an effort to learn the rules. You liked watching me play, didn't you?"

"I loved watching you play. And I'm going to love watching you coach."

He smiled. "And I'm not completely uninterested in psychology. In fact, I was thinking I should buy a sports psychology book. Might help me as a coach."

She raised her head to look in his eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"I'd love talking to you about that." He talked a lot about football. It would be nice if the conversation circled around something that particularly interested her for a change. "We could read it together."

"Yeah. That'd be good." His eyes twinkled. "And, uh…." He lowered his voice, "I think we're very _sexually_ compatible, don't you?"

With a teasing smile, she said, "The parts fit together anyway."

"They fit together with _fantastic_ results."

She laughed.

"It doesn't always work like that, you know," he said. "That's an important point of compatibility."

"Well, I guess your father and Karen have that in common too."

"Ewww! What? Why are we talking about my _dad's_ sex life?"

"I was just thinking…he was saying he and Karen didn't have that much in common. But they have Andrew in common, and ambition in common, and I'd guess a good sex life in common. I mean, based on what we heard that one time. Though with the baby that's probably slowed down."

"Tami, I don't want to talk about my dad's sex life. At all."

"Fine. Let's talk about ours. Are there things we can improve?"

"Is this an evaluation?" Eric looked a little confused, worried, and offended all at once. "Is there a problem? Am I doing something wrong?"

"No," she assured him. "But there's _always_ room for improvement."

"Who are you even comparing me to? You never had sex with Mo. And that other guy at that party…That couldn't have been good. One time like that."

"It wasn't good," she said. "But I'm glad you can acknowledge you weren't my first now."

"What?"

"On our honeymoon, you said you popped my cherry."

"I forgot about that asshole. What's that called in psychology? Repression? That's healthy, right?"

"No, it's not healthy," Tami told him with a snort.

"It is in this instance." The show came back on. "Trust me. I try not to think about the things you might have done with Mo, either. But obviously _you_ do. So, what - was he better at something than I am?"

"Eric, this isn't a competition."

"I mean, we all know he's a better football player than me, but I didn't think he was a better lover."

"Eric, c'mon now. Don't do that. Don't compare yourself to Mo."

"You brought it up."

"I did _not_ bring it up!" she insisted. She sat up now. "I brought up the possibility of discussing how we can make a great sex life even better. This has nothing to do with Mo! You aren't in competition with Mo. You shouldn't be. Over anything."

"Well I already won the most important competition with him. Hands down. Didn't I?"

"Do I make a nice trophy wife?" She was irritated, but his answer softened her.

"You're more valuable than a Super Bowl ring."

She chuckled. "Well that is saying something, coming from you, isn't it?"

"I love you, Tami." He kissed her. His forehead to hers, he asked, "Now what am I doing wrong?"

She pulled back. "Nothing! You aren't doing anything wrong! I was just talking about how we could make it even better."

"A'ight then. How?" he asked.

"Well, you first. What might I do that would make our sexual relationship better for you?"

"Oh no. I'm not playing that game. That game is rigged against me. I can only lose."

"C'mon now!" Tami insisted. "Just tell me _one_ thing I could do to improve our sex life."

"End this conversation right now and go to bed with me."

"Besides that."

"Have sex with me every night and every morning."

"Besides that."

"Nothing," he said. "You're perfect. Now what am I doing wrong?"

"Nothing! But I do want you to stop shushing me during sex. If they hear us they hear us. I want to _express_ myself."

"A'ight. Done. What else?"

"I don't want you to use the word _tits_ so much."

He looked puzzled.

"I don't mean never. I just mean not so often. I don't know why. It just...When you go on and about about how much you love my _tits_ , it makes me feel like I'm some porn star or something."

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

She shrugged. "You seem to like saying it."

"I don't want to say something that turns you off. I didn't know! You told me there was only _one_ word that was off the list."

"That was when we were in _high school_."

"Okay, then do we need to update the list? What else is off limits now? Give me a run-down."

"Really, that's all that was bothering me."

He shook his head. "All this long, drawn out conversation when you could have just opened with – _Eric, stop shushing me during sex and I get turned off when you say tits_." He waved a hand at the television. "Now we've missed half the show!"

"Sorry."

"Be more direct next time," he insisted.

"I didn't want to hurt your feelings. I thought it was better if I eased into it."

"It's not. You made me think there was a _serious_ problem in the bedroom. If you don't like something, just tell me. I'll stop." He smiled. "And if you _do_ like something, well…tell me that too." He bent his head to whisper in her ear. "Tell me what you like _while_ we're having sex. I love that. It really turns me on."

"Yeah?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye. "I'll remember that."

The creak of the front door opening reached their ears, and they both fell silent and blushed a little.

Karen passed through the living room, said hello, and then went to the kitchen. Eric slipped his arm away from Tami. "Think I'm going to turn in."

"Is that a hint?" Tami asked. "It's only 8:20."

"It's a hint, but not the hint you think it is." He nodded in the direction of the kitchen. "I figured you'd want to talk to her. But, when you're done talking to her…" He grinned.

"No promises," she told him. "We _just_ did it last night."

He frowned. She kissed his frowning lips.

In the kitchen, Tami poured herself a glass of the wine Karen had just opened and joined her at the table. The woman was looking at the flowers on the counter top.

"Nice, huh?" Tami asked. "Garrett's good at arranging them."

"Yes," Karen agreed. "He has a true eye for design. It's why he's so great with the remodeling."

"You should tell him that."

"I'm sure he knows that. He's well aware of his own strengths and weaknesses when it comes to his work."

Tami smiled hesitantly. "But he'd probably like hearing about his strengths from you."

Karen gave her a quizzical look.

Tami tried to think how best to broach the topic. "I was just thinking today, of a conversation you and I once had. You told me the day was coming when my career was going to take a back seat to Eric's. I guess in a way it's already started. I let him find a job first, and now I have to find one near his. I thought it would be easy, but I haven't heard back from any of my resumes yet. It would have been easier if I could have applied all over Texas, the way he did."

"Yes," Karen agreed. "That's how it seems to work most of the time, no matter how much equality we supposedly gain. And apparently, no matter how much flexibility you _think_ he's gained in his career."

"Garrett's career has been heading in a different direction though, lately, hasn't it?" Tami asked.

"It sure has."

"He's excited about it. That success is making him feel good about himself. His career is meaningful to him. The way your medical career is to you."

"Tami…what are you getting at here?"

"Eric and I heard you two fighting last night. Saw Garrett on the couch this morning."

Karen sighed and got up and topped off her wine glass before sitting down again. "He said I should be home more often, because I'm Andrew's _mother_. As if I'm being a _bad_ mother to want a career. As if I didn't take off the semester he was born. As if I don't feed him every single morning and put him to bed _most_ nights. But Garrett says I should be home _at least_ as often as he is. That's what he says _now_. Before he promised me that he would flex his schedule to be the parent who was home most often. I should have known better. I should have known it would be all about his career in the end, just like it is for every man."

"I don't think it's _all_ about his career," Tami said quietly. "I think maybe it's about _more_ than that."

"Such as?" Karen asked.

Tami hesitated. Karen was thirteen years older than she was. She was the one with the long-time career, the real adult. Tami might come off as very presumptuous indeed. She took the gamble anyway. "I think maybe it's about his need to feel like you admire him for his achievements, and about your need to feel like he respects your work and goals. It's about his need to spend more time with you, to feel more important to you, and about your need for more support from him. It's about a lot more than his career."

Karen sipped her wine. "I love Garrett," she said. "He's very masculine. Charming, chivalrous, protective, great with his hands..." A smile crept across her lips "...in more ways than one. He makes me feel like such a _woman_ , and I admit I love it. That masculinity drew me to him, but I'm not really the other side of that coin. I'm just not the domestic type _or_ the damsel-in-distress type. I wanted marriage and a child, I did, very much, but…I want the career too. I want some independence too."

"I don't think he wants a damsel in distress, Karen. If he did, he never would have pursued you in the first place. He just wants to know he's admired. And just because you're pursuing your career doesn't mean you can't still be supportive of his, that you can't let him know you admire how much he's built these past two years. You two can work out a compromise. Maybe you won't both get _all_ you want out of your careers, as soon as you want it, but - "

"- Something has to give," Karen said. "Is that what you're saying?"

"You're _fighting_ ," Tami said softly.

Karen nodded. "We are. And it seems we've been talking over each other."

"If y'all want to go out after your big test Friday night, for dinner, just to talk…why don't you? Stay out as late as you like. Eric and I will be here with Andrew."

Karen ran a finger up the stem of her wineglass. "We just might take you up on that offer."


	52. June 18: Reconciliation

**[Friday, June 18]**

The breakfast rush took over the kitchen. Eric frying bacon, Andrew trying to chuck cheerios in the direction of Julie's open mouth and giggling, Karen pouring a travel mug full of coffee, Tami trying to get the kids to stop squealing and settle down, and, finally, Garrett coming in, looking for his keys.

"If you would just hang them on this key rack I got us," Karen said, as she plucked her own keys off the board, "you would never lose them."

Mr. Taylor patted each of his pockets. "Found them!" he exclaimed victoriously. "Tami, are y'all really okay with watching Andrew tonight?"

"Of course."

"Karen, I'm going to reserve us a table at that French place downtown."

"That's expensive," Karen said.

"What, I can't even do this right? We can afford it one time. You told me you love French food and I'm just trying - "

"- Okay," Karen said softly. "It's a good choice. Thank you for making the reservations."

Mr. Taylor's expression softened. "There's also that fancy wine bar next door," he said.

"I thought you hated fancy bars," Karen said.

"But _you_ don't. And it'll be quiet. We could go there after dinner if...we're still talking."

"You mean if I haven't killed you?" Karen asked with a slight smile.

Mr. Taylor returned her smile. He look partly amused and partly frightened. Karen kissed his cheek. "Thank you for the flowers you left yesterday," she said. "Have a good day at work."

"You too." As she was leaving the kitchen, he called after her, "You read the card?"

"All three words of it!" Karen hollered back.

When Mr. Taylor had left for work, Tami went over to look at the card.

"What are you doing?" Eric asked.

"C'mon. You're curious what the three words are."

"I know what they are," Eric said. " _I'm sorry - Garrett_."

"You're right," Tami said, shutting the card. "Did you know because that's what you would have written?"

"No. I know because I read it yesterday."

 **[*]**

Mr. Taylor returned and fed Andrew at lunch time and played with him for a few minutes before disappearing to his bedroom. He came back to the living room where Tami was half reading and half watching the kids and held up three ties. "Which is better?" he asked. "With a black suit?"

"This is a suit and jacket kind of restaurant?"

"It's at least business casual," Mr. Taylor said. "I don't _have_ to dress up completely, but I know how these things work."

Eric did always seem to have a certain advantage over her when he was well dressed. She could be putty in his hands some Sunday mornings. "Well, any of those would go with black. What's Karen's favorite color?"

"Yellow. I don't have a yellow one."

"Nix the red," Tami said. "Psychologically it's associated with aggression. The black can imply coldness. Go with the blue. It implies calmness, trust, and communication."

He looked down at the blue tie dangling from his hand. "Really? A tie can say all that?"

"I don't know," Tami said with a smirk. "I just made that up. But the blue will bring out the lighter colors in your eyes."

He chuckled. "Okay. Thank you."

Tami smiled. "You act as though you're going on a first date." In a way, she supposed, he was. If they were going to be completely honest with each other tonight, it might be rather like meeting someone for the first time.

"Well, I certainly hope it goes better than that. Our first date was awful. I somehow spilled wine in her lap before we could even order. Drove her back to her place so she could change, apologizing the entire way. Then she just suggested we order pizza since we missed our dinner, so I suggested this _great_ delivery place, and when it came, it was burnt. I was pretty sure she wasn't going to go out with me again, so I didn't even ask. But a week later, she called me."

"For an emergency repair?" Tami asked.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said with a smile.

Julie walked up to Mr. Taylor and hugged his leg. He looked down at her. "Red!" she said. "Red, grampa."

He looked at the ties in his hands. "Why?" he asked.

"Red birds are red!"

"Well," he mused, "it makes about as much sense as your mother's arguments, so..." He tossed the red tie in the air and caught it, "Red it is." He tried to move, but Julie clung to his leg. "I have to go back to work for a few hours."

"Take Julie."

"I'd love to take you, peanut, but there are work site regulations." He pried himself loose.

 **[*]**

"You're so beautiful, babe," Eric murmured as he ran a hand gently over Tami's bare stomach, tickling her with feathery light caresses, until he had cupped a breast. He bent his head and flicked his tongue across her already hardening nipple. She gasped. "Perfect Tami. I love your...breasts." He raised his face up to look at her, with a smile that asked, _Did I do it right?_

She smiled with affection and tried to give him what he had said he wanted, which was to tell him what she liked. "I like it when you kiss my tits like that, Eric. I love to feel your mouth on them. I want - "

"- _You_ just said tits."

" _I'm_ allowed to say it."

"Uh...a'ight." Eric slid up her body, put a knee between her legs to push them apart, and whispered in her ear, "Be as loud as you want, babe."

"I've kind of lost the mood."

He rolled onto his back and sighed.

"Sorry, it's just...the discussion. The discussion should only occur on the sidelines."

"I agree. You just surprised me when you said what you told me not to say."

"I didn't say _never_ say it. Just...less often."

He stared up silently at the ceiling fan.

"Let's take a shower together," she suggested.

"In the hall bathroom?"

"They probably won't be home for at least another hour. And what's the worst that happens? They find out we sometimes shower together?" She rolled to her side and peered down at him. "It'll get me back in the mood. Especially if you spend a really long time washing my chest. Because I love it when you run your strong hands slowly up and over - "

He bolted out of bed, grabbed her hand, and tugged. She followed him giggling.

The second attempt in the bed, while they were still damp from the shower and unraveling each others towel's, was far more successful than the first. They lay panting and smiling afterward, the overhead fan cooling their hot, damp flesh.

"I love you, babe," he said. "That was fantastic."

She kissed his bare shoulder. "I love you, too."

He smiled and closed his eyes. So did she. She only meant to close them for a moment. She wanted to stay up and talk, but she was soon asleep.

 **[*]**

Eric and Tami were jolted awake, not by arguing this time, but by laughter: Karen giggling and Mr. Taylor guffawing.

"I hope they took a cab home," Tami said. "They sound a bit drunk."

"I'm sure they did."

The laughter died down. It was quiet for a time, and then new sounds arose, moans and cries of "Please, darling!"; "God yes, Karen!"; "Fuck me, Garrett!"; "naughty girl"; "faster!"; "like this?" "harder!"; and a half dozen others.

"Ewwwwww!" Eric groaned. "Awww….ewwww!" He buried his head beneath the pillow.

Tami lifted the pillow and eased in under it with him.

"You promised they wouldn't be so loud if we lived here," he muttered.

"They're drunk."

"They better not wake up Julie and Andrew." He winced. "And that's not even coming from the bedroom," Eric said.

"You're right. I guess they couldn't make it to the bedroom. That's coming from the living room." She smiled. "I think I'm a pretty damn good counselor."

"We're never sitting on that couch again," Eric muttered.

"Who says they aren't on the coffee table?"

"Stop, Tami. Just. Stop." He pulled the pillow more tightly down on his ear.


	53. June 19: Peeling Off Old Scabs

**[June 19]**

In the morning, Mr. Taylor came into the kitchen while Eric, Tami, Julie, and Andrew were eating breakfast. Karen must still be recovering.

"Eric," he said, "I need you to take me to pick up Karen's car."

"Karen's car?" Eric asked. "What, you didn't take your pick-up?"

"As sexy as the aroma of paint thinner is to a woman, I opted to let her drive. But we had to leave the car. We might have...imbibed a bit too much."

"No kidding?" Eric asked. "You didn't drink _responsibly_ , after years of insisting I always do?" He rose and put his plate in the sink. "I think maybe you need to do a round-off on the kitchen floor, just so I know you've sobered up."

"I know you hated that son, but it was a very effective test of sobriety. Besides, I just think it's impressive that you can do that."

"Well, I can't anymore. But I can take you get Karen's car. Since you drank so irresponsibly last night."

"Well I didn't drive, did I?" Mr. Taylor grabbed a cup of coffee. "And besides, I'm fine this morning."

Eric looked him over. "How can you not be the least bit hungover? I mean, you were really drunk last night."

"How do you know?" Mr. Taylor asked.

"Let's just say it sounded like you were doing emergency repairs in the living room."

Mr. Taylor flushed red. He glanced at Tami. "Ah," he said. "Emergency _repairs_." He coughed. "Sorry if we were...indiscreet."

"That's an understatement," Eric told him. "Seriously, though, why aren't you more hungover?"

Mr. Taylor began to walk from the kitchen. "Age and experience, my boy. Age and experience. And water. Most people forget to drink ample water. Remember that, son."

"It's good to have fatherly advice," Eric said as he trailed along beside him. "Sound moral guidance."

Mr. Taylor smacked Eric playfully on the back of the head as they walked through the kitchen entryway.

Tami spent the day following up on resumes and crossing yet more schools off her list, while Karen watched both kids. Mr. Taylor popped into a job site, and Eric studied for a test he was going to have to take as part of his certification program.

In the evening, Karen and Tami retreated to the back porch with a bottle of wine, leaving the boys alone with the kids.

"I can't have more than a glass of this after last night," Karen said.

"I'll have to help you out then," Tami reassured her. She tried not to look like she knew anything about their previous night's activities when she asked, "How did your date go?"

Karen smiled. She looked into her wine glass. "Well...it started off with a bit of arguing. But it ended _very_ well. And in between...we had a serious, calm discussion. And we reached a temporary compromise. "

"What's that, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm going to slow down my program to normal speed. No more acceleration. It'll take me longer than I like, but I'll have more time for Garrett and Andrew and I'll probably finish with better grades, which could mean a better residency."

"And his part of the compromise?" Tami asked.

"Garrett's going to hire an administrative assistant to handle the invoicing and scheduling and bids and some of the other duties he's been juggling. When he doesn't have to handle all those details, he'll have more time to look after Andrew. And we'll hire a part-time nanny."

"Can you afford all that?"

"Garrett will have to cut his own salary, but he's been paying himself well. He's doing…really well."

Tami knew it would be rude to ask _how_ well, but she was curious.

"We'll miss you when you're gone," Karen told her.

"I appreciate that. I'll miss Andrew. He's been a delight. He's a really sweet baby."

"It's been great having someone I can trust 100% with him," Karen told her.

"We're going to have to find decent childcare for Julie when I go to work too. _If_ I go to work."

"It's hard when you're just starting out. You may have to get your foot in the door with a less than attractive job. But knowing you, you'll work your way up very quickly, Tami." Karen smiled at her.

"Thanks."

Karen took a sip of her wine and said, "I told Garrett he is not permitted to hire a beautiful admin assistant."

Tami chuckled. "What if the most beautiful applicant is also the most competent?"

"That's seldom the case," Karen answered.

"Well you're beautiful, my dear, and you're highly competent."

Karen looked up over her deck chair at Mr. Taylor, who had just come out onto the porch and was smirking down from above her. "You're hiring a _man_ , darling."

He bent and kissed her quickly. "Men seldom apply for those types of jobs." He pulled up a chair and sat beside her. "But I'll hire a blonde if that would comfort you."

"Garrett has a thing for brunettes," Karen told Tami, in a feigned, confident whisper that wasn't a whisper at all.

"It's true," he admitted. "But I did actually date at least three blondes in my life."

"What, out of fifty?"

"Great God, Karen," he said. "I haven't dated _that_ many women."

"How many have you dated?" she asked.

"I don't know. Twenty maybe."

"And how many were brunettes?" Karen asked.

"Most. But none so beautiful as you." He scratched behind his ear. "Come to think of it, Eric's mother was a blonde. Perhaps that's what put me off."

"Really?" Tami asked. "Blonde?"

"You've seen the baby photos, haven't you?" he asked. "He was a complete tow head, just like Julie."

"That's right," Tami said. "Your sister showed me. I'd forgotten. When did his hair change?"

"Started around six," Mr. Taylor said.

"Kids are almost ready for bed." They all jumped a little at the sound of Eric's voice.

Stories were read, children kissed and tucked in, and the adults settled in the living room, Eric and Tami in each of the arm chairs, and Karen and Mr. Taylor on the couch Eric refused to touch today.

Eric had been unusually quiet and solemn during the past thirty minutes, and Tami wondered what was on his mind. Had he overheard the mention of his mother?

"And," Mr. Taylor was saying, "they have this new material that simulates wood flooring that would look - "

"-Dad," Eric interrupted his father. "I've been thinking…Maybe I should try to find my mother."

"What? Why?"

Tami hadn't thought much about Eric's mother, and it bothered her to realize how rarely she'd thought of the fact that Eric must. She wanted to reach out to him now and grab his hand, but he was on the other side of the coffee table, in an opposite chair.

"Well, I have a child now," Eric said. "It would probably be good to get her health history at least."

"Don't open that can of worms, son."

"I'm an adult now. I'm curious. And I think it would be good to know her health history."

"She didn't have any health problems."

"She was 18 the last time you saw her. How would you know? I want to know what she's like, too, her personality. I got half her genes. I want to know what kind of person she is, if she's – "

"- I'll tell you what kind of person she is. She's a selfish bitch!"

"Garrett!" Karen exclaimed. She looked horrified at his use of a word she'd probably never heard him use before.

"Really, Dad?" Eric asked. "You fell in love with a selfish bitch? C'mon, now! You dated her for at least _two_ years. You were her high school sweetheart. She can't be _all_ bad."

"She wasn't _all_ bad. She was funny and she was smart and she was beautiful. But I was 17 when we started dating and I was thinking entirely below the belt. There were things I ignored. Like the fact that she was just using me to piss off her parents, because they were intellectual professional types and I was just a poor, dumb jock."

"You're not dumb, Garrett," Karen said softly. "You've built a business from the ground up. You – "

"- Well I didn't do well in school. And maybe I did have an undiagnosed learning disability like my sister thinks. God knows it's still a struggle to read. I've got to track with my finger like a little kid."

Tami made a note to keep an eye on Julie's reading progress. Eric didn't have that problem, at least.

"But school was hard," Mr. Taylor continued. "It was so hard I turned down that football scholarship to college, joined the amateur leagues right out of high school, got a job with my hands instead, hoped and prayed to get drafted." He sat back. "But Wendy got As without even trying. She was smart. She had a bright future. So did I, potentially, but she didn't believe in me. She didn't think I'd get drafted. So when she decided she needed her parents' money to go to college, she dumped me just like they wanted. But then she found out she was pregnant. Eric, you have to understand, son - you were nothing but a chain around her ankle. And once she had you, she took off and she didn't look back for three years."

"She looked back?" Eric asked, his eyes wide. "You told me she terminated her parental rights when I was _born_."

"Close enough," Mr. Taylor said. "Not _precisely_ then. I thought I might still convince her to get back together with me. But she left for California when you were a month old, and I lost touch with her. But one day, she called me out of the blue, said her parents had died in a car crash and she'd been cut out of the will because of some falling out. I don't know what happened, but she was always fighting with them. So she asked me for money to pay her tuition for the last year."

"You didn't have any money back then."

"No, but I had a friend who had been drafted to the NFL that season, and she suggested I could borrow from him. And when I said no, she started making noises about taking you from me. Taking you to California. So I did hit up my friend for money. And I did give her the money, but only if she'd agree to sign the papers terminating her parental rights, because I didn't want her coming back five years later and threatening to take you again. She used you as a bargaining chip."

Eric bit down on his back teeth. His eyes flitted all across the living room. Tami wanted to hold him, lower his head to her chest, tell him she loved him.

"That's why I was working two jobs all those years. Not just to support us. I also had a debt to pay to my friend. You want to find your mother, Eric, you want to meet her, have a conversation with her…I understand your curiosity, I do, but I'm just thinking of you. I don't want you to find her and then have her turn around and try to use you in some way. Because she's a _user,_ Eric."

"Maybe she's changed," Eric said. "People change. All the time. And even if she hasn't, I'm not looking for some fantasy mother anymore, Dad. I'm not going to let myself be used. I just want information."

"I don't even know how you would find her. All I know is her name, her parents' name, her high school, her town of birth, and the fact that she was last in California. _Eighteen_ years ago."

"That's a start," Eric said.

"Don't do this, son. Don't rip off that scab from your heart. It'll never heal if you do that. You've got a fine wife, a beautiful daughter, a father who loves you, a baby brother, a kind stepmother, and respectable in-laws – you've got all the family you need."

Eric breathed in. "Okay," he said quietly. "I've got a lot on my plate right now anyway. I'm starting a new job soon. We're moving into a new apartment. I don't need to be doing this right now."

"Good call, son."

That night, Eric lay on his back in nothing but a pair of black silk boxers. One beside lamp was on low. He stared at the whirling blades of the fan above as if counting the turns. Tami dropped her pants and let her t-shirt fall to its natural position just at her thighs. Expertly, she pulled her bra out from under her shirt, and then she lay down next to him.

His hands were folded over his chest.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked softly. "Your mom?"

"Yes."

"You want to talk about it?" She had decided she wouldn't press him if the answer was no.

He was quiet for a long while, and then he said, "When I was six, he finally showed me a photo. That's the only way I've ever seen her. One photo."

Tami reached over and covered his hands with one of hers and squeezed. She wanted to cry for him, but she held it together. At least, she did until he asked, very quietly, "Why didn't she want me?" Tami let the tears flow, but silently. She rolled to her side and kissed his cheek. He swallowed a few times and closed his eyes. "I lied to my dad in there. I'm going to see what I can find."

"Oh."

"Do you think it's a bad idea?"

"I…I think you need to do what your heart tells you to do, Eric. But I'm worried you'll get hurt. If it's what you want to do, though, I'm behind you. I'll help in any way I can."

He kissed her and thanked her and told her he loved her.

"But you really should tell your dad you're doing it."

He shook his head. "I don't want to have that fight with him."

"Eric, you really should – "

" – No, Tami. I don't want to."

She fell silent. She nodded. He closed his eyes, and snuggled close, his head bent and against her shoulder, one leg between hers. She stroked his hair for a long while, until she felt him stirring against her thigh. She was surprised by his response, given his mood. "Do you…do you want to make love?"

By way of answer, he kissed her and pushed up her t-shirt and pressed his erection against her panties. She pushed back against him, moving her body with his in a dry dance as he kissed her lips and slid a hand beneath her shirt. He cupped and squeezed her breasts, his tongue lashing hers with desperate need.

Eric dragged his mouth away from hers. "Take off your panties," he ordered, and she did. By the time she'd tossed them to the floor, he'd shed his boxers. He spread her legs apart, and when he pushed in, his low groan reached her ears like a plea. He rocked hard against her, straining for a quick release, and came with a muffled moan. He apologized when he was done. "Sorry. That was selfish. That did nothing for you."

"It's okay," she reassured him.

"I don't want to be a selfish person."

"You're _not_."

"What can I do for you?"

"I don't need anything right now, Eric. I _wanted_ to make you feel better. Do you?"

"I feel more relaxed. Like I could actually sleep."

"Then sleep, sugar. Please."

"I love you so much," he said as he settled his head against her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Shh," she told him, and stroked his back. He closed his eyes, and, in a few minutes, she heard his breathing level into sleep.

She stayed awake for another hour, worrying.


	54. June 27-July 1: The Search

**[June 27]**

Eric returned from the library while Karen was at the park with Andrew and Julie. His father was at a job site.

"Any luck?" Tami asked him as he grabbed some ice tea from the fridge. She was wiping down the table after a messy lunch with the kids.

"The research person helped me. I found there's a Wendy Durant who's a graduate student at Stanford. I doubt it's her, but I suppose it's possible she went back for a graduate degree to the same university where she got her college degree."

"Any contact information?"

He took a sip of the tea. "A university e-mail address."

They'd both gotten e-mail their last year of college, which they used only in the school computer lab, mostly to e-mail each other and their other college-age friends. It had been a novelty to them, and they didn't have access to those accounts anymore.

"Your dad has e-mail." Mr. Taylor had a dial-up account through something called AOL. He paid an hourly fee for its use. He was more on the cutting-edge of technology than they were. Tami supposed he saw some business advantage in having the account.

"I don't know how I could use his account without him noticing," Eric said. "She'd have to reply to him. And he'd read it before I did."

"Then maybe it's time to tell him what you're doing."

Eric shook his head.

 **[June 29]**

Eric was late this evening, and he had to reheat his dinner plate. He told his father he'd been at a study group for a certification test, but Tami knew there was no such group. She came to him where he sat alone in the kitchen, staring at the sink and eating.

He looked up at her when she sat down across from him.

"Were you at the library again?" she asked.

"I got a phone number. I'm afraid I might come across as a creep if I call, especially if this Wendy turns out to be a grad student around my age. You said you'd help me in any way you could. Would you call her? Tomorrow? When my dad and Karen are at work?"

Tami nodded.

 **[June 30]**

"Is this Wendy Durant?" Tami chirped cheerfully.

"It is," came a sleepy and annoyed sounding voice on the other end of the line. That was when it occurred to Tami that California was two hours behind Texas. She was hoping to get Wendy before classes, but not before breakfast.

"Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, but I'm doing a little genealogical research on behalf of my husband, and I was wondering if you might possibly have graduated from East Tyler High in 1970?"

"I was born in 1970. Who is this again?"

"I'm sorry I've troubled you." Tami hung up the phone.

That night, Eric was late again. Another "study group." Before he undressed for bed, he handed Tami a folded piece of paper. She was already in her thigh-length Baylor's nightshirt jersey. "This one's in L.A.," he said. "She's a partner in a law firm. So she must be at least my mom's age, I'd think. And my dad said my mom had planned to go to law school."

Tami took the paper from his hand, unfolded it, and looked at the number. "Is this helping you, hon?"

"You agree with my dad? That I shouldn't go looking?"

"You've seemed kind of...unhappy this past week. I just don't know if this is helping you."

"You don't want to know? For Julie's sake? What if she has some kind of genetic predisposition to - "

"- This isn't about Julie, Eric. It's about you. And if this helps you, if it's something you need, I'm behind you one hundred percent. But if it's just going to make you morose, make you dwell on something you'd mostly moved on from, if it's going to hurt you, I don't want any part of it."

"Call her. Please."

Tami sighed. "I will." She folded the paper and put it on the nightstand. She crawled into bed next to him. "You know, you haven't asked me about my day at all."

"I'm sorry. How was your day?"

"Julie skinned her knee, and you'd think she severed a limb. Andrew has gone down to just one nap. And another school officially rejected me."

"I'm sorry, babe. How many are left?"

"Five."

"Well, one of those five is meant for you."

"What if I don't get a job, Eric?"

He turned off the lamp. He rolled over and draped an arm around her waist. "You'll get a job. You're Tami Taylor. Counselor extraordinaire."

She laughed. He kissed her. "I love you. I'm sorry if I've been in a foul mood. Overhearing my dad say that, about my mom being blonde...I don't know why, but it set off this...this idea. And I just have to try. If there are too many more dead ends, I'll take it as a sign to stop."

"Okay. I'm here, Eric. You know that, right?"

"I know." He kissed her cheek and closed his eyes. "I know," he murmured again, before he fell asleep.

Tami lay awake another forty minutes.

 **[July 1]**

Eric was on time for dinner tonight, barely. "Sorry I'm late," he said. He leaned down close to Tami. She'd just sat down at the dinner table. He kissed her cheek and whispered, "Anything?"

She turned her head to kiss him in return. "She was 65," she whispered in his ear.

Mr. Taylor asked her to pass the potatoes as Eric sat down. Karen said, "I have study group tomorrow night. I'm going to eat with them, if that's okay with you, Garrett."

"You do what you have to do," he said. "I'm proud of how well you're doing this term. I was just telling one of my men today how smart my wife is and how's she's going to be a _doctor_."

Karen smiled at him. He caught the smile with one of his own.

"Well," she said, "I was just telling one of my classmates how my husband is _so_ determined and clever, that he was able to build a 1.2 million dollar business in under two years."

Eric spewed water from his mouth onto his plate. He coughed and apologized and then said, "What? 1.2 million dollars?"

Mr. Taylor shook his head. "In _gross revenues_ , Eric. That's what we're slated to make by the end of this fiscal year, if we stay on target. But I have to pay all of the salaries out of that, and the equipment, and advertising, and taxes, and so forth."

"So what's your profit?" Eric asked.

"Most of my profit is re-invested in the business."

"What do you keep for yourself?"

"I pay myself a salary. A hundred grand, give or take."

"A hundred?" Eric asked. "That's over three times what I'll be making next year!"

Mr. Taylor laughed. "Well, son, I'm three times your age."

"Actually, you're not even twice my age."

"True. But you get my point."

"Yeah," Eric said. "I guess. I just...I had no idea you made that much."

"Hell, son, you'd be making over twice what I do now if you'd gone pro."

Eric gritted his teeth and Mr. Taylor appeared to regret his words. "You'll be making more than me one day, when you've worked your way up to coaching college ball. Give it another fifteen years."

Eric's jaw loosened.

"I'll be calling _you_ for a loan then."

Eric almost smiled. Tami was happy to see it. That was the closest thing she'd seen to a smile all week.


	55. July 2: Caught

**[July 2]**

"Yum-ee! Yum-ee! Yum!" Andrew exclaimed.

"New word!" Karen said excitedly. "I need to put that in the book later."

Mr. Taylor smiled. Then he set his fork down. "Say, Karen, who do you know in California?"

"No one, darling. Why?"

"There were two long distance calls to California on the June bill."

Tami caught Eric's eye over the dinner table. He almost imperceptibly shook his head.

"Well I certainly didn't make them," Karen said.

"They're trying to sneak in extra charges," Mr. Taylor grumbled. "I'll call them tomorrow and have it out with them."

"It was me," Tami hastened. "I made the calls. I'll pay you back for them."

"There's no need," Mr. Taylor said. "Who do you know there?"

Tami thought quickly. "A friend. From college."

"There were two different numbers."

"Two friends," Tami said.

"Really?" Mr. Taylor asked skeptically. He looked from Eric to Tami and back to Eric. He pushed his plate forward and asked, "Are you looking for your mother?"

Eric swallowed. "Yes," he admitted.

"And?"

"And nothing but dead ends so far," Eric answered.

"You'll probably find dead ends for months and give yourself nothing but heartache. Stop this nonsense."

"Dad, I just want to try. Say I do find her. Say she's not the way you think she is anymore."

"Say you do. Say she's alive and she's moved on with her life and become a generous, selfless person. And say she's gotten married and has a couple of kids. She has a happy marriage and a family that knows nothing of her checkered past. And you waltz in and blow the secret. And her family implodes. What then?"

"Well, how happy a marriage can it be if they keep such big secrets from each other?" Eric asked.

"People keep secrets all the time," Mr. Taylor said. "Especially if they've moved on from some past they want to shed."

Karen shot him a guarded look.

"Not me," he told her. " _People_."

"I never really thought about the fact that I might have siblings," Eric said. "What if I _do_ have half-brothers or sisters?"

"Then they'll be complete strangers to you," Mr. Taylor told him. "And they might not like learning their mother gave birth to a secret child when she was barely 19."

Eric studied his plate.

"Look, son, let me be honest. I don't want that past bubbling up in my life either. I don't want to have to hear from her again or see her again. She disappointed me so badly, and I was so angry with her, and it took me years to let go of that anger. But I did let go. I got my closure, and I don't want that door flung open again."

"You may have gotten your closure," Tami said softly, "but Eric might not have gotten his."

Mr. Taylor sighed. "Fine. Just don't...if you find her, don't give her my phone number or address."

"Yes, sir," Eric said.

 **[*]**

Eric went for a jog after the kids were in bed. Tami volunteered to join him, but he wanted to be alone. While he was gone, Karen sat cross-legged on the couch, a textbook open on her lap. Mr. Taylor sat beside her. He had a clipboard on his lap and was sketching plans for a bathroom. He was just like Eric with his play diagrams, Tami thought. She'd find blueprints on napkins sometimes.

Tami read in the arm chair. She'd had Eric pick her up a copy of John Grisham's latest novel, _The Pelican Brief_ , whe he was last researching at the library. She found it to be a page-turner, but she still listened in on Karen and Garrett's conversation.

"My dear," Mr. Taylor said, "I think we should take the shower tubs out of the bathrooms and make walk-in showers. It's going to be all the rage within five years."

"Then where would I bathe Andrew?"

"We can widen the master bathroom and install a separate soaking tub."

"Can I have a Jacuzzi?"

"Possibly. We'll see what I make this fall after I have to pay whatever tall, blonde administrative assistant I hire."

"Will she be buxom too?"

"Most likely."

Karen flipped a page. "What are some of the secrets married people keep from each other, darling?"

"I'm not keeping any secrets. What kind of secrets do you think I'm keeping?"

"No _secrets_ , per se. I just think you've probably sowed a few wild oats."

"So have you," Mr. Taylor said.

"Not like you. Twenty girlfriends? Really? Twenty?"

Mr. Taylor shifted a clean sheet of paper to the top of his clipboard. "Well you guessed fifty."

"I was joking. I actually thought you'd had maybe ten girlfriends. I only had seven boyfriends before you."

"Well, I'm seven years older than you, my dear."

"Did you have sex with all twenty of them?" Karen asked.

"If I did - "

"- I'll take that as a yes - "

" _ **If** _ I did, that's not a lot. Not in fifteen years. Not at all. That's _far_ fewer women than I could have...uh..."

"Bedded?"

"I was _dating_ everyone of them. I didn't pick them up in a bar."

"Not a one?" Karen asked.

"Well...I maybe _met_ a few in a bar, but then I picked them up on their doorsteps for our actual dates."

"Just out of curiosity, were you ever particularly serious about anyone before me?" Karen asked.

"I was serious about Eric's mother. You know I offered to marry her."

"Offered," Karen said. "That's an interesting word choice."

"Well I'm quite the offering, my dear."

Karen chuckled. "Anyone between her and me?"

"Well, I was fairly serious about the woman I dated just before you, but she got back together with her husband."

"Her husband? You dated a married woman?"

"No! Not married. They were divorced. But he started seriously trying to make amends. They had young kids together, and he seemed sincere, so I didn't fight for her."

"Would you have married her, though, if they'd stayed divorced?"

"I don't know, Karen. How can I know that? I married _you_."

"You did," she said.

"Don't make me regret it, woman."

"Call me _woman_ again and I _will_ make you regret it."

He smiled and stood. "May I get you some wine, my love?"

"Please," Karen said.

"Tami?" he asked.

" _Please_ ," she answered

"Sorry about that, Tami," Karen said when he was gone. "I almost forgot you were here you were so quiet.'

"It sounds like y'all haven't shared much about your pasts with each other."

"True. We've mostly spent time talking about our present and our hopes for the future. I admit I'm curious about his past, but it's probably not a good idea to go digging for the details. I suppose he feels the same way about my old boyfriends." She paused. "But he has told me quite a bit about Wendy. And he's very worried about Eric finding her."

Tami looked up from her book.

"He really thinks she's toxic," Karen continued. "I don't know if he's right about that or not, but he loves Eric, very much. And he's afraid. He's afraid for his son."

"I understand that," Tami said quietly. "I'm afraid, too. But if this is something Eric needs to do to feel closure - and I think it is - then I'm not going to try to stop him."

Karen nodded. "You're a good wife, Tami."

Tami blinked. This compliment surprised her, coming from a woman who was older and had been married slightly longer than she had. "Well, Eric's a good husband."

"Good to hear," said Mr. Taylor as he re-entered the room with an open bottle of red wine and three wine glasses. He set them all on the coffee table. "Because if he's ever not, you let me know, and I'll slap him upside the head until he is again." He poured.

Tami chuckled. "Not sure you can beat chivalry into a man. But I suppose he can learn by example."

Mr. Taylor handed her a glass and smiled. Then he poured Karen's, and, finally his own. As he sat down, Tami asked, "Do you think Eric has half brothers and sisters?"

"I suppose it's possible," Mr. Taylor said. "Hell, I suppose it's possible I have another child I don't even know about," he turned his head to Karen, "since I had such a terribly wild past, dating a record 1.3 women a year."

Karen shook her head at him. He smiled affectionately at her.

The front door opened. Eric entered the living room, his shirt dark with sweat, his hair matted to his head, breathing hard. "That was my best three mile ever," he said and then disappeared to the kitchen.

Tami followed him. "Hon," she said. "I'm headed to bed."

"A'ight."

"Why don't you hurry up and take your shower and then join me?"

He smiled over his water glass. "You get horny when I come back from a run, don't you?"

"Sometimes," she admitted. She didn't know why. Sweat and hard breathing made her think of sex, she supposed, and thinking of him running made her think of his stamina, and….

The lovemaking was slow and satisfying, and Tami was glad for it. They hadn't had sex since that night he began to think of finding his mother, and she was beginning to worry about his uncharacteristic lack of interest, beginning to worry that this search had absorbed him.

The lay on their sides afterward, face to face. She drew lazy circles on his back with a fingertip while he stroked her long hair absently, and she told him about some of the conversation she had overheard.

"Damn," he muttered. "If you add in my mom, and Karen, and whoever he lost his virginity to - because I got the idea it wasn't my mom - that's twenty-three women he's had sex with. And he didn't even make it to the NFL."

She laughed. "Hon, you probably could have had sex with twenty-three girls by your senior year of college if you hadn't been with me.'"

"I could have? Really? Hmmmm…..maybe I should rethink this marriage thing."

She slid her hand away from his back and spanked his ass.

"Ow," he said.

"That didn't hurt."

"Well it wasn't as sexy as the way I do it to you."

"I didn't intend for it to be sexy."

He chuckled.

She chuckled.

He kissed her.

She pulled back. "Do you regret not sowing your wild oats, sugar?"

"And missing out on you because I was busy sowing them? Not for a second." He rubbed her nose with his. "Besides," he murmured, "I've always assumed sex within a _real_ girlfriend is better _."_

"It is," she said decisively. She'd lost her virginity to someone who wasn't a real boyfriend. There was a world of difference between that experience and her first time with Eric.

 _"_ And, you know," he said, "my _father_ sort of drove that idea into me. So I'm kind of surprised by all of the notches on his belt."

"Eric, he was almost forty before he got married. He dated. It's not like he was having a one-night-stand every weekend or getting blow jobs in the school supply closet."

"I did not got through with that!"

"I know. That's my point. I think you're probably your father's son."

"Yeah. I forget, sometimes," Eric muttered, "how long he was single. Hard to imagine it. It already feels like I've always had you." He kissed her forehead. "I pray I always will."

"You'd have to mess up pretty badly to lose me, Eric."

"Then I'll make a note _**not** _ to mess up pretty badly."

She cuddled in closer. They were quiet for a while, and she thought maybe she shouldn't broach the topic that was worrying her and spoil the warm peace, but she had to get it off her chest. "Karen said your dad is very worried about you finding your mom, that he thinks she's toxic."

"Well, he doesn't know what she is anymore. And if she is, I'm not stupid. I'll figure that out. And then I'll stay clear. In the meantime, I'll have gotten a health history and found out if I have any siblings."

He tilted her chin to look in her eyes. "Hey," he said softly. "I just want to know I tried, so I don't always have to wonder _what if_ I _had_ tried. A few more Wendy Durants, a few more calls, and if I don't get anywhere, I'll stop. A'ight?"

"You promise? I don't want this to become something that consumes all your - "

"- I promise. I just need...I just need to do this much."

"Okay."

"Thank you for helping me, Tami. I appreciate it. I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered and settled against his chest with a sense, at least, of partial peace.


	56. July 4-9: Psychology

**[July 4, 1992]**

Karen thought Andrew would be too fussy if they forced him to stay up late on Independence Day, but Eric and Tami took Julie to watch the fireworks over Lake Grapevine. They swam in the lake and picniced on the shore before the show, and Julie dozed off on the blanket they had laid out. While she napped, Eric poured into two red, plastic cups the wine he had smuggled into the park past all of the signs announcing that alcohol was prohibited.

"You better not get us arrested," Tami told him.

"C'mon," he said. "We're celebrating our _freedom_." His eyes fell to her bikini top and lingered there.

"I'm putting on a cover up," she said.

"Don't," he pleaded, but she did. "Fine. Then I'm putting on a t-shirt." He pulled an old Baylor's shirt over his bare chest.

Forty minutes later, when the wine was gone, the show began. When the first boom of fireworks reached her ears, Julie awoke. Tami was afraid she would cry, but instead the girl stood up and clapped.

Tami leaned back against Eric's chest where they sat and looked at the sky with wide-eyed wonder. After awhile, she sensed that Eric was looking at her instead of the fireworks.

She craned her neck back to talk to him. "They're pretty," she said. "You should watch."

"I'm already watching something beautiful," he said. She smiled and he kissed her, and then she returned her attention to the sky.

Julie squealed and clapped again and said, "Fire! Oooooooh! Pwetty fire! Red! Gween! Ooooooo!"

Eric wrapped his arms around Tami and kissed the top of her head. Julie came and stood behind him where he sat. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and rested her chin on his head as she looked out over the lake at the bursting lights.

"I have a good family," Eric said. "I'm blessed." And then he finally turned his eyes to the sky.

Eric didn't go to the library at all that weekend. Tami hoped that perhaps he had quietly put his search aside.

 **[July 9, 1992]**

When Julie turned two, Tami and Eric held the family birthday party at the parsonage in Tyler, in part to appease Tami's mother.

Shelley brought her fiancé to the party, and Tami had to admit that the man was handsome and debonair. He had their mother laughing and saying, "Oh, really Javier, you're too charming."

As they were driving back to Dallas later, Julie passed out in a sugar coma in the back seat, Tami asked, "What did you think of my brother-in-law to be?"

"I don't like him."

Tami raised an eyebrow. She was a little surprised by the decisiveness in his answer. "He was surprisingly intelligent and charming."

"Glib and manipulative, I think you mean."

"Really? I mean, he was a bit over the top," she admitted. "But manipulative? I didn't get that impression."

"Because you're a girl."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He pulled onto the highway. "Tami, trust me, I know that kind of guy. There were at least two on the high school football team. One of them was Mo."

"What do you mean one of them was Mo? How is Javier like Mo?"

He glanced at Tami. "Never mind," he said as he turned his attention to the road.

"Don't never mind me. You can't make a statement like that and not back it up."

"Look, all I mean is that Mo can be very charming when he wants to be."

"So can you."

"Yeah, but the reason I want to be isn't so I can get something."

"Yes it is! You're always charming when you want to get laid."

"Okay, so maybe it is," he admitted. "But the reason I'm charming isn't so I can get something I don't deserve."

She laughed and shook her head.

"And I'm not charming to hide my duplicity."

"Duplicity?" she asked.

"Duplicity. I did just fine on the SAT, you know."

"You think Javier is duplicitous?"

"So does Pastor John, Tami. We had a little chat on the matter."

Tami sighed. "And I was actually starting to feel a little less worried about this marriage. Now I'm more worried."

"Sorry," Eric said, and reached down from the wheel and squeezed her knee sympathetically. "Hey, the worst that happens is they end up divorced, Shelley gets her heart broken, and maybe he leaves her with a couple of kids, and she starts asking you for money to help support them."

Tami turned her head to him slowly. "Well that's bad!"

"Yeah," he agreed. "It's pretty bad."

"You're not helping at all!"

"No. I'm really not." He patted her knee. "Sorry about that." He put his hand back on the steering wheel. "Do you want me to call him up?" Eric asked. "Have a little Javier chat? Tell him if he breaks my sister-in-law's heart, I'll hunt him down like the dog he is, and….do…..something?"

Tami laughed. But then she looked at him a little more seriously. "I wouldn't mind if you did," she admitted. "Our dad's gone. Pastor John is the least threatening man I've ever met. It might be nice to have some male family member play that protective role for Shelley. I know it won't change the outcome, but...it would make me feel better anyway. I don't know why."

"Psychology," he said.

She smiled. "Yeah. Psychology."


	57. July 10: Reminiscing

**[July 10, 1992]**

Tami glanced into the kitchen after putting Julie to bed. Eric was listening with the phone to his ear. He gestured for her to go away. She wanted to listen in, but she supposed he couldn't talk to Javier with her hovering about, so she went to the living room and joined Garrett and Karen, who were seated on the couch. Karen was studying as usual. Mr. Taylor was watching ESPN.

Tami slid into an arm chair.

"My son can be very intimidating when he wants to be," Mr. Taylor reassured her.

A moment later, Eric joined them in the living room and claimed the arm chair opposite Tami. Mr. Taylor muted the television for the commercials.

"How did your Javier chat go?" Tami asked.

"I laid down the law," Eric said. "And he assures me he's madly in love with your sister and would never harm her in any way."

"You don't sound like you believe him," Tami said.

"He rubs me the wrong way," Eric said.

"Eric's a good judge of character," Mr. Taylor told her.

Karen turned a page in her book and highlighted a line. "You're not helping Tami feel better about her sister getting married, darling."

"How can my mom and Pastor John let her get married when we all have a sense of foreboding about this?" Tami asked.

" _Let_ her?" Mr. Taylor said. "If she's anything like you - "

"- She's nothing like Tami," Eric interrupted him.

"Well, I mean, Shelley seems like a young lady who very much has her own mind about things. They've got that in common at least."

"Who knows?" Karen said. "Maybe Shelley and Javier will be married fifty years and all y'all will have to eat your words."

"I hope so," Tami said. "I would love to have to eat my words."

Mr. Taylor kissed Karen's cheek. "I hope we'll be married in fifty years."

"You'll likely be dead in fifty years, darling."

"And you'll be living off my inheritance with the pool boy?"

"Maybe the chauffeur."

Mr. Taylor chuckled and unmuted the TV as ESPN came back on. Tami came over and sat at Eric's feet, a not so subtle hint. He began rubbing her shoulders.

On the TV, the announcer talked about the upcoming NFL training camp. _Here's one to keep an eye on,_ he said, and a photo of Mo flashed on the screen. _Morris McArnold was quite a surprise pick, but maybe he shouldn't have been. Look at these stats._ Words and numbers flashed on the screen.

Tami could feel how tense Eric's hands were on her shoulders.

"Mo won't make it past August," Mr. Taylor said. "He'll be cut in the first round of roster reductions."

"Why do you say that?" Eric asked. A little bit of the tension drained out of him and he began rubbing again.

"You had him over to the house a few times. I always thought, if brains were leather, Mo couldn't saddle a flea."

"Mo isn't dumb, Dad. He's not a scholar, but he isn't dumb."

"You don't remember when I came home three hours earlier than expected that one night, and Mo tried to convince me that bong was for a chemistry project y'all were working on?"

Eric laughed.

"And then he tried to tell me the scent that had invaded my house was a popular new air freshener?"

"You and Mo smoked pot together?" Tami asked. "You never told me that! You told me you got it from your first girlfriend!"

"I did get it from my first girlfriend," Eric said. "But then I smoked it with Mo."

"I didn't even know y'all were friends," Tami said. "I never saw you hanging out much off the team."

"That was when you were still running with the drama crowd," Eric said. "That was before you were dating him. We didn't hang out much after my freshman year. I was too busy. And I was always with Laura. And my dad kind of scared him away when he caught us."

"That was a misguided year," Mr. Taylor said. "Starting with that loser you were dating."

"Kimberley wasn't a _loser_ , Dad! She didn't even smoke pot herself. You always blamed her, but it was all me. I _asked_ her to get it from her brother. I was so stressed out that summer. I'd never played varsity before, they were going to bump me up early, and everyone expected so much. I just needed to relax. And I was this close" he held his thumb and forefinger apart "to getting laid when you broke us up."

"I didn't break you up. All I said was that you could only see her at our house while I was home. If she thought that made you less cool, then, well, that's not my fault."

"No, you broke us up."

"Well, I'm sorry, son. I'm sorry you have one less notch on your belt because of me. Are you aware that your wife is sitting right in front of you, while you're complaining about not getting laid by some other girl?"

"That's not what I'm complaining about! You just shouldn't have _interfered_. And talking about notches - over twenty women, Dad? Really?"

"Listen, most of us don't hang up our belts at the age of 18, because most of us aren't lucky enough to find our ideal match that young."

Tami was a little surprised by Mr. Taylor's use of the word ideal. She thought her father-in-law liked her well enough, but she'd never imagined he considered her an _ideal_ match for his son. "You wouldn't rather he have married Laura?" she asked. Laura had been a good student, a regular church goer, and she'd been voted best to take home to parents her senior year.

"Laura," Mr. Taylor said with a laugh. "I never liked that girl very much."

"What?" Eric said. "You never told me that."

"Of course I didn't. She was your girlfriend. But I'm glad she didn't end up as my daughter-in-law."

"Why?" Eric asked.

"She was a bit judgmental," Mr. Taylor said. "I always felt like she was frowning on me because of my single parenthood status."

"What? No she wasn't."

"And she never treated you right. I always felt like you were doing most of the work in that relationship. You always drove up to UNT on weekends. She never drove back to Tyler."

"She didn't have a car, Dad."

"She didn't have the motivation to get a car so she could drive to see you. She was happy to have you as a boyfriend when it convenienced her. Otherwise she was just living her own life. That relationship was over at least a year before you ended it."

"You think she was cheating on me for over a year?"

"I didn't say that. I don't think she was cheating on you at all. But she wasn't invested in you. She was invested in her social life at UNT, in her studies...you were an afterthought. A weekend amusement."

"Why did you never tell me you thought that?"

"How would you have reacted if I had?"

"Yeah," Eric muttered. "I would have been pissed off and not heard you."

"You loved her. Or thought you did. I wasn't going to try to convince you that you shouldn't. But I gotta say, I was a little bit relieved when you came home that night from UNT, that night Tami came for her first tutoring session, and I could tell from your eyes it was over with Laura."

"What? Then why did you accuse me of smoking pot and make me do a round-off if you knew I'd been..." he almost whispered it, "crying over Laura."

"I thought it would be a distraction."

"I was so upset! And you made me do a round-off!"

"You were hurt, sure, because she was your first love. But you were also _relieved_ to be freed of your obligation to her. Weren't you?"

Eric didn't answer.

"And I'm willing to bet you went after Tami that very night."

"I…" Eric took his hands off Tami's shoulders. "Maybe," he admitted.

"Because you _already_ liked her," Mr. Taylor said. "Took you awhile to treat her like a gentleman, though. You're lucky she stuck around."

Eric swallowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you weren't taking her out on dates, but I'm pretty sure I kept walking in on _something_ at the tail end of those Sunday evenings."

Tami blushed.

"I didn't know if she wanted a real boyfriend," Eric said defensively.

"You might have asked her."

"If you thought I was being a jerk to her, why didn't you say something?"

"I figured she'd get tired of it and you'd either shape up or lose her. I never liked interfering in your love life."

"Really?" Eric asked. "Never?"

Mo's picture was back up on the television again, and the commentators were still talking about him. Mr. Taylor gestured at the TV. "Seriously, if dumb was dirt, that McArnold kid would cover about an acre."

"I don't know," Eric said. "He was always smart about certain things. Like how to make money with money."

"A'ight," Mr. Taylor said. "He's not dumb. But he's not self-reflective."

"Self-reflective?" Tami asked.

"Yeah," Mr. Taylor answered. "Unlike Eric. It's hard to grow as a player if you're not self-reflective. McArnold has probably reached his pinnacle. He probably had a great coach in college, so he grew some, sure, but….his focus is too outward."

"I don't know about that," Tami muttered. "He seemed pretty focused on himself in high school sometimes."

"I'm not talking about selfishness. I'm talking about self-reflection. Eric has that. He'll mull a thing over quietly in his mind for hours, make himself better for it. That's why he could have kept going at the football even after he wasn't drafted, and if he had kept going, he eventually - Ow!" Mr. Taylor looked at Karen, who had just elbowed him in the ribs. He sucked in his bottom lip, gave her a dirty look, but accepted the warning and dropped the subject. "How do you think the Cowboys will do this season, son?" he asked instead.

 **[*]**

That night, as they lay in bed in the guest bedroom, Eric said, "I told you. My dad will always think I should have made it to the NFL."

"Maybe," Tami admitted. "But he loves you and he's proud of you for other reasons and you have to stop caring what he thinks about that. You can't let that get in the way of your relationship with him. Don't make that mistake. Let it go."

"How can I let it go if he won't?"

"By not responding to it when he does mention it."

Eric sighed. "Do you….do _you_ wish I hadn't given up? That's I had tried out for the CFL or - "

" - No! You made that decision after a lot of self-reflection that I'm sure began long before you weren't drafted. Like your dad said, you're self-reflective. Sometimes that might not lead to the conclusions your dad would like, but you didn't just make that decision out of frustration. You didn't give up. You switched tracks and now you're steaming forward on a new one."

"And you don't ever think...what if you had stuck with Mo?"

"Yeah, I do think about it," she said.

He frowned fiercely.

"I think how much worse my life would be if I hadn't had the sense to break up with a cheater, if I hadn't found a good husband like you, if I didn't have our Julie. I think about it, and I'm grateful I had the courage to dump him even if it might make me unpopular or mean I had to think about who I was apart from him." She raised her head to look at him. "Do you ever think what if you had stuck with Kimberley? Sounds like you liked her more than I realized."

"Oh God." He closed his eyes and winced. "I'm sorry I said that in front of you, about not getting laid."

She laughed. "It's just, the first time you mentioned her to me, you made it sound like that relationship wasn't a big deal. But tonight it sounded like you really liked her."

"I did. I mean, she was cool. She was my first girlfriend. We hung out, made out. It was exciting. And it bothered me that my dad though she was a bad influence, because she was really an a'ight girl. But we didn't have much in common. She hung with the metal heads at her school."

Tami had a sudden vision of Eric with long hair and a studded leather jacket and laughed. "So you don't wish you'd stuck with her all through high school?"

"And missed out on you? Hell no."

"You would have gotten laid by her," Tami said.

"I'd much rather be laid by you, babe."

"Well what do you think I'd rather have, sugar, an NFL salary, or a faithful husband who adores me?"

He smiled. He stroked her cheek. "We do have a good thing going here, don't we?"

"Yeah. We do." She kissed him.

He kissed back and pulled her close. They made love, slowly and gently tonight, before spooning together and drifting off to sleep.


	58. July 12-13: Discovery

**[July 12]**

"This one is only $590 a month," Tami said. She leaned forward on the couch and circled an advertisement in the apartment section of a local Arlington paper she'd picked up.

"What's the address?" asked Mr. Taylor from the arm chair he was sitting in.

She told him.

"That's not a good part of Arlington. You're going to need to pay at least $650 for a two-bedroom in a decent part of town." He gestured for the paper. "Let me see that."

She handed it over, partly peeved at her father-in-law's interference and partly grateful for it. He got up from his arm chair and sat down next to her on the couch and told her about the neighborhoods where each apartment was located. "I've done a bit of work in Arlington," he said. "And of course the stadium's there. Can't wait to take Eric to a Cowboy's game."

"Ticket prices are insane these days," Eric said.

"A client gave me two seasons passes."

Eric looked over his shoulder at his father. He'd pulled the arm chair up close to the TV. He was watching the game tape he'd picked up from his future boss yesterday. His job might not officially start until August 10, but his work had already started. "Seriously?"

Mr. Taylor nodded.

"What do you think, sugar?" Tami asked Eric. "Of all these apartment choices?"

"Whatever you want, babe. Just so long as it's not more than seven miles from Bowie High and not more than $650 a month." He returned his attention to the screen and made a note on his pad.

"Why $650, hon?" Tami asked. "There's a nice one here for $700. A little bigger than our old apartment. It even has a private balcony off the living room and a washer and a dryer. No more carting laundry to the apartment washroom."

"$650 a month is about a third of my income," Eric said. "You're supposed to stay within a third of your income for housing."

"Well, we'll have _my_ income too."

"You don't have a job yet."

Tami didn't want to be reminded of that. She'd started sending her resume to elementary schools, even though she wanted to work with older kids and didn't know what kind of counseling you were supposed to give second graders. "I'll _get_ a job," she said.

"Well, we should plan to live on just my income. That way, if you don't get a job, or one of us ever loses a job, we won't suddenly be in over our heads. Or if you decide you want to stay home with Julie."

"I want to work," Tami insisted.

"Okay. But if you decide - "

"- I'm not going to decide that."

"A'ight. But if we learn to live on just my income, the option is at least there."

"He's being wise there, Tami," Mr. Taylor said. "It's good to live below your means."

Tami ignored her father-in-law. She was focused on what Eric had been saying. "Do you _want_ me to stay at home?"

"I want you to do what you want, babe," Eric said. "But it's been real nice this summer. Always having you home when I get home. Dinner ready. Knowing Julie was with you and not some stranger all day. Being able to hear about what you two did together and everything new my baby girl said and learned. Not having to juggle schedules. It's been...relaxed."

"Well I want to work! And I want an apartment with a washer and dryer. I _hated_ carting those clothes around."

"Well, as long as it has hook-ups," Mr. Taylor told her, "you can always get a washer and dryer. I can get you a used one for cheap, maybe even free, while I'm working."

"You still fixing and installing washers, Dad?" Eric asked. "I thought that was beneath you now."

"Honest work is never beneath any man, Eric."

"Even teaching?" Eric asked.

"I've never suggested there's no dignity in teaching, son. I just wanted…" He stopped himself. "That's a good spread offense they've got going."

"Uh, yeah," Eric said returning his eyes to the TV. "I was thinking…."

Tami returned her attention to the rental section of the newspaper while the talk turned to football.

 **[*]**

Over the bed that night, Eric handed Tami a folded piece of paper.

"What's this?" she asked.

"I got out of class early today. I went to the library after."

Her heart sank.

"This one's a lawyer also," he said. "In San Diego. Will you call her tomorrow?"

Tami looked at the number and sighed. She thought for sure he'd given up on this quest. He hadn't mentioned it to her for days.

"Please?" he asked. "This is the last one. Then I'm done."

"Okay," she said quietly. "If you need me to."

 **[July 13]**

Tami settled Andrew down for his nap, checked that the living room was secure for Julie to play in, and then went to the kitchen phone. After calling the latest number Eric had given her, she began her rehearsed spiel, ending with, "Did you graduate from East Tyler High in 1970?"

"1969," the woman said.

Tami had fully expected a no. She was so stunned she wasn't sure what to say next.

"Hello?" the woman said.

"Did...did you know a Garrett Taylor?"

"Who is this?"

Tami swallowed. "My husband...my husband is Garrett Taylor's son. I think maybe he's your son too."

There was a long, shaky sigh from the other end of the line. "Don't ever call here again."

 _Click._

 **[*]**

That night, as Eric lay in bed talking about how glad he would be when this certification program wrapped up, Tami felt a cramping in her stomach. She didn't want to tell him about the call.

He hadn't asked about it. Maybe he'd forgotten. Maybe she should say nothing.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Fine," she said.

"You a'ight? You seem upset about something."

"Uh….no," she lied. "My day was fine."

He turned on his side and kissed her. "Are you mad that I said I like you at home?"

"No, I'm not mad about that," she answered honestly. "But I do want to work. I can't not work, Eric. I don't want to have gone to college for nothing."

"It wouldn't be nothing. You got an education. And you could put that degree to use when Julie is in high school."

"And what would be my chances of getting a job then, when I have over a decade-long blank spot on my resume?"

"A'ight," he said quietly.

"And we need the money."

Now he tensed. "I can provide," he muttered. "I can coach summer football camps, too, make more money. I'll get raises. I'll work my way up. I can provide for this family. Not NFL level provision, but y'all will have food and clothes and shelter and - "

"- I didn't mean it as an insult to your manhood, Eric. I just...it would be nice to have a little more, is all."

He rolled onto his back and threw an arm above his head. "Sorry I can't give you his and hers closets full of shoes and a pool."

"I don't need his and hers closets full of shoes and a pool. I just want a washer and dryer and a balcony and a little extra money so I can get my nails done twice a year."

"I'll do your nails for you, babe," he said with a smile.

She laughed. She was relieved to hear him joke. She kissed his chin. "Yeah? Will you give me a thirty minute foot massage along with the pedicure?"

"Oh, I'll give you the full treatment. Naked, full body massage."

"I don't think you can get that at the salon."

"You can in Eric Taylor's salon."

She squealed as he grasped the edge of her shirt and pulled it up. She raised her hands so he could get it off. "Roll on your stomach," he said. "I'll take care of you."

She did, and felt him slide her panties down and off her ankles.

As he pulled the lotion from the nightstand, and began to work in slow, tantalizing strokes on her body, she forgot all about the phone call.


	59. July 14: To Being a Dad

**[July 14]**

"You make the best coffee, babe," Eric said as he took a sip and put his feet up on the coffee table.

The house was quiet. Both Garrett and Karen had already left for work. Julie was sleeping unusually late. Andrew was playing with a shape sorter on the living room floor and making little noise. His concentration was fierce. Tami thought him a strangely solemn child, and was always surprised and delighted by his smile or laugh when it did burst out.

Eric was waiting for a classmate to pick him up. Tami needed his truck today to take Julie to her two-year checkup. They were temporarily a one-car family. They had sold Tami's sedan when they moved from Waco, determined to save money over the summer and to buy something more reliable for her before she started work...assuming, of course, that someone hired her. What was taking these schools so long to call her for an interview?

"I'm glad you like it," she said. "Although I just think you're buttering me up so you don't have to make it."

"Is it working?"

"Maybe." She sat down next to him on the couch and put a hand on his knee. "What are you learning about in your program today?"

"I think we're talking about the politics of education, which has nothing to do with making good teachers, but I guess we have to know this stuff."

"What kind of politics?"

"You know," he said. "Various rules. Like no pass, no play. Thanks, Ross Perot."

"I fully supported that law," Tami said.

"When you were 14?"

"Well, if I had been thinking about it when I was 14, I would have. But I support it now."

"It just leads to grade inflation and duplicity."

"You like that word. Duplicity."

"It's a good word," Eric said. He kissed her. "And I think we'll be talking about the Robin Hood Plan."

"The what?"

"Texas legislature might pass an equitable funding law next year. They'll take some of the taxes raised in richer school districts and give them to poorer school districts. What do you think of that?"

Andrew gurgled and squealed on the floor when a star went through the corresponding hole, but then his eyes widened and he resumed his fierce concentration on his project.

Tami leaned her head on her hand and looked at Eric. "Well, I like it in theory," she answered. "Kids shouldn't get an underfunded education just because they have the misfortune to live in a poor district. But if we're going to knock ourselves out to live somewhere with safe neighborhoods and good schools, and we're paying higher rents or property taxes to do it...well, I kind of want that money to go to Julie's school system."

Eric sipped his coffee. "Hey," he said suddenly, "Did you call that woman?"

Tami's veins felt like they'd be shot through with an icy blast. How could she have this conversation now, when he was leaving within five minutes? She couldn't let him go to class with that disappointment on his mind. "I didn't have a chance," she lied. "I'm sorry." She felt guilty as she said it. She never lied to Eric.

"Will you call her today? Please?"

Tami promised she would.

The doorbell rang.

"My ride's here." Eric kissed her goodbye, grabbed his satchel, and took his coffee cup along.

 **[*]**

That night, Tami lay beside Eric in bed, knowing she should tell him about the call, but relieved he hadn't yet asked about it. Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he would never ask again.

"So did you get ahold of that woman?"

Tami closed her eyes.

"Babe? Did you?"

She reached out and took his hand. She laced her fingers tightly through his and squeezed.

She didn't want to. She really didn't want to. But she told him.

Eric's voice was choked when he spoke. "So she's not even _curious_ about me? Not even a little?"

Tami had no idea what to say. Her counselor's training failed her. Real life wasn't like a textbook.

He rolled to his side and looked into her eyes. She saw the pain there, the disappointed hope. It wasn't true that he had only been curious. He'd harbored some fantasy of reconciliation, of being wanted by his mother.

"I'm so sorry, hon." It was all she could think to say.

He lowered his eyes. His words tore there way through his clenched teeth. "My dad's right. I have all the family I need." He raised his eyes to hers and swallowed. Anger and sadness and determination swirled together in the hazel sea of his eyes. "I'm lucky to have you. To have Julie. To have a father who wanted me."

She stroked his cheek.

"This is it," he said bitterly. "I'm _done_ with her. It's the end of the road."

Tami kissed him softly. "How can I help?" she asked.

"By not making me talk about it."

Tami nodded. She kissed him. "Do you want to make love?" She didn't know what else to offer him.

"No." He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Streetlight cast a tangled web on the drywall above. She cuddled in close. "I don't want to be touched right now, Tami."

She slid away.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's not personal."

"I know." She knew, but she hated it. She hated that she couldn't do a single thing for him, not even a wordless, physical thing.

He threw the covers off of himself. "I'm going to watch some game tape."

She lay in bed for half an hour before she couldn't take it any more. He may not need her, but she needed to _do_ something for him. Before she rounded the corner to the living room, however, she heard his father's voice. She remained at the edge of the hall. The faint glow of the TV drifted around the corner. There was no sound but their voices, however.

"So how old _were_ you when you lost your virginity, then?" Eric asked.

"14."

"14! Jesus! That's _young_ , Dad! I didn't lose mine until I was 16, almost 17."

"Really? Not Kimberley?"

"No. Laura. And not until right before my junior year."

"She dated you for an entire year before...uh..."

"Yeah."

"Oh. I assumed y'all were - "

"- Well we weren't. I mean, don't get me wrong, the sex was great once we started having it."

Tami did not need to hear this, but curiosity had pinned her to the wall.

Mr. Taylor chuckled. "Well, son, you had _nothing_ to compare it to. Of course it was great."

" _Four_ girls in _high school_?" Eric asked. "Really? In your generation? With your Catholic parents?"

"I was a football player. And a damn good one. And I was good-looking when I was young," he said, as if he wasn't now. "They were throwing themselves at me."

"Yeah, but when I was 13, you told me I should wait until I was more mature and that I should only do it with a steady girlfriend."

"Did it ever occur to you, Eric, that I might have learned from my mistakes?"

"You're telling me you regretted all that sex?"

"I didn't regret the _sex_. I regretted that I stopped dating decent girls whenever I learned they wanted to wait until marriage. I regretted that at least one of those girls I had sex with wasn't ready and that _she_ regretted it."

"You pressured her?"

"Not exactly. But she wanted to please me, and I didn't expend much effort to make sure she was really ready. And I regret that I broke another girl's heart because she thought I loved her, and I just...I didn't."

"Did you tell her you did?"

"No. She assumed. I didn't _challenge_ the assumption, though, because I wanted to get laid. I was not a gentleman. Oddly enough, your mother changed me."

"How's that?" Eric asked. His voice was a little angry and skeptical at once. Tami did not think he had mentioned the call to his father, not the way they were talking.

"She was so different from the other girls. She was so charming and classy and just...mesmerizing. I can't explain it. I didn't see her underside then, and I fell _hard_ for her, but she made me work for her. She was sure of herself, and her family was rich and refined and she was out of my league in that sense. She should have been dating some intellectual, well dressed college boy, not the carpet layer's son, who owned only one suit and still read slowly."

"Karen's refined. I don't think you have a problem with refined women."

"Like I said, she changed me. We were together two years and I learned to be serious about a girl, and I learned to act the part of a gentleman. I didn't just learn to _play_ the gentleman. I learned to _like_ being the gentleman. In my own way. And about that time, because I developed more respect for women, I also started listening to my mother and big sister more. I started hearing the things they'd tried to teach me that I'd ignored."

"Why did you convince her to have me? Why didn't you just let her abort me? It would have been so easy for you."

"Son, I wish I could give you some answer like - I loved you before you were born. But I didn't. I was still half in-love with her. I thought for sure, when you were born, she'd change her mind and stay with me. And when she just walked out like she did...that's when I knew how much I'd been lying to myself about her character. That's how I knew I was in love with an image, with an idol. It wasn't the walking out on _me_. I can see why I might not have been the ideal match for her. It was the walking out on _you_."

Eric coughed.

"Becoming your father was the boldest and scariest and best thing I've ever done in my life. You changed me too. More than anyone ever has. You'll see. Julie will change you. Not that you aren't a good man already, but she'll show you all your weaknesses, and she'll make you wish you could be better. She'll make you _strive_ to be better. You'll see."

"I like being a dad," Eric said quietly. "I was so shocked when Tami told me, and I didn't know how I was going to do it, but...I like being a dad."

"Me too," Mr. Taylor said. "To you and to Andrew." Tami heard the scrape of a bottle against the wood of the coffee table. "To being a dad."

The clink of beer bottles drifted to Tami's ears, and she felt guilty for listening in as long as she had. She crept back to bed.


	60. July 15-18: The Meeting

**[July 15, 1992]**

The kitchen phone rang during dinner, and Karen answered it. She was silent, and then said, "May I tell him who's calling?" Pause. "And may I give him a name?" Pause. She covered the receiver. "Eric, a woman is calling for you. A woman who refuses to furnish her name."

Eric, with a look of confusion on his face, rose and took the phone. He listened. "Yes, this is Eric Taylor," he said.

Karen sat back down and resumed eating. Tami cleaned up Julie's spilled cup. She was trying to transition from a sippy to an open cup. It wasn't going well.

"Yes, my middle name is David." Eric sunk into the kitchen desk chair. "Yes, that's my birthday." Pause. "Mother Frances Hospital in Tyler." He listened. He occasionally said "yes" or "oh." Then he said, "I just wanted to know some things."

Mr. Taylor stopped eating and stared at his son. Tami looked up from the paper towels she was using to sop up milk.

"You are?" Eric asked. "This Saturday?" He swallowed. "I uh...I guess I could...yeah. I could meet you for lunch. Anywhere in or near Dallas." Pause. "What's it called again?" He grabbed a pad of paper off the kitchen desk and scribbled down some information. "I'll look up the address. Yeah. I'll be there."

He hung up the phone. He just stared at the kitchen wall for a moment.

"Was that her?" Mr. Taylor asked. "Was that your mother?"

Karen looked at her husband nervously.

Eric nodded numbly.

"Why in the hell does she have my phone number?"

Eric turned in the desk chair. He looked at his father. "Sorry. Tami called her from this phone yesterday." It had actually been the day before yesterday, but not as far as Eric knew. "She told Tami never to call her again and just hung up, but then I guess she changed her mind. She has that Caller ID thing. It told her this number."

Mr. Taylor asked, "You're meeting her?"

"She's going to be in Dallas on business this weekend."

"Well that's quite the coincidence." Mr. Taylor's voice was more than skeptical. It was angry.

"She's a lawyer. Her firm has offices here, in San Diego, Chicago, and New York."

"She told Tami never to call her again," Mr. Taylor said, "and then _she_ called?"

"Yes," Eric said, still clearly reeling from the shock.

"And you _agreed_ to meet her?"

"How could I not?" Eric asked.

Mr. Taylor slammed his palm down on the kitchen table. It rattled, the silverware clanking against plates. Karen gasped and Andrew started crying.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Taylor muttered.

Karen released Andrew from his high chair to comfort him.

"I'm sorry, Karen," Mr. Taylor said. "I didn't mean to startle him." He stood. "I'm going to the garage."

After Tami and Karen put the kids to bed, Mr. Taylor was still in the garage. "I'm going to check on him," Karen said. "Y'all have a nice night." She was no doubt anticipating a long conversation.

Eric had already disappeared into the bedroom. Tami joined him. She stripped to her t-shirt and underwear and lay next to him in the darkness, where she knew he was wide awake.

She thought about what she should say, but she didn't say anything.

Eventually, he spoke. "I'm going to meet my mother."

"I know."

"I'm twenty-two, and I'm going to meet my mother for the first time."

She rolled to him and held him. "I know."

"Why do you think she changed her mind so fast?" he asked.

"I don't know," Tami said, though the question troubled her.

"She said she _wants_ to meet me. That she _wants_ to get to know me. She _wants_ to, Tami."

"Yeah," Tami said softly, but the darkness felt so very heavy, and stones of fear seemed to be weighing down her stomach.

 **[Saturday, July 18]**

"How do I look?" Eric asked Tami. He looked incredibly nervous, but she knew that's not what he was asking. He'd put on a pair of khaki pants, and he had on a button down, short-sleeve shirt.

"Handsome," she said, and draped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? Karen's home this afternoon. She can watch Julie."

"I appreciate it, but I need to do this on my own."

Mr. Taylor had not spoken to Eric today about his plans to meet his mother. After slamming his hand against the dinner table, he had not mentioned the topic again. He'd slept in late, and then gone straight to a job site.

Tami stroked Eric's cheek. "Don't expect too much," she told him.

"I won't. But maybe she's changed. Maybe she's sincerely sorry she walked away from me."

Tami literally bit her tongue so she wouldn't start crying. "Maybe, sugar," she said softly. "I love you so much." She kissed him, and then she let him go, and when he closed the front door, that was when she cried.

[*]

When Eric came back, Tami handed him a beer and sat on the couch next to him.

"Where is everyone?" he asked.

"Your dad is still at his job site, and Karen took the kids to a playdate at the neighbor's. How was it?"

He smiled. "She was pretty, Tami, classy, like a 50's movie star. No one is like that anymore. She just had this..." he shook his head. "This _presence_ about her. And she was really nice. Just so nice. And funny. The smart kind of funny. And she said she was really sorry for just…that she was a confused teenager, afraid, and she wished that she'd stayed in touch. She said she tried to find me for years, but she couldn't find my dad's number after he changed it."

Tami wanted to stop him, to tell him not to get ahead of himself, to proceed with caution, but she listened instead.

"She doesn't have any other kids. She's married, to a banker, but they decided they didn't want kids. And she's not going to be asking me or my dad for money, that's for sure. She's a tax lawyer! She's going to be in town again in two weeks. I'm going to meet her for brunch, if that's okay with you."

"Shelley's wedding is that Saturday." Tami hadn't worried about her sister's upcoming ceremony for a few days. She'd been too busy worrying about Eric. She suddenly remembered she was supposed to go in before six this evening to get her bridesmaid dress fitted. Shelley had ordered it in Austin but had it delivered to a nearby store.

"Well, she'll be here the whole weekend. I could meet her Sunday after church."

"Okay," Tami said. "Just...be careful." She put a hand on his shoulder. He'd gone from having completely written off his mom for years, to searching for her, to writing her off again, and then to this excited chatter. There seemed to be no anger in him now, but also no caution. How often in his childhood, she wondered, had he secretly fantasized of meeting her, of hearing her say she was sorry, of giving him some reason why he wasn't worth staying around for? "I love you, Eric," she said, and she almost cried when she said it.

"You a'ight?" he asked. "You seem sad."

"I just love you so much, that sometimes it makes me…" She shrugged. She kissed him deeply, to hide her fear.

He broke away, set his beer on the coffee table, and then returned the kiss fervently, pushing her down against the couch.

"No," she said. "Not on this couch."

He looked down at it. "Oh yeah. Ewwwww….."

They went to the bedroom to fool around instead.

Eric was happy, and Tami let herself be happy. She pushed aside her misgivings and worries and enjoyed the playful love making.

They frolicked in bed for an hour, until they heard Karen re-entering the house with the kids.

 **[*]**

When Tami returned from her dress fitting, dinner was already in progress. She helped herself from the pot on the stove to the chili Eric had made (it was his night to cook) and sat down at the table with the rest of the family.

Mr. Taylor was talking to Karen about the pool of applicants for the administrative assistant position. "I've narrowed it down to three. Will you look over the resumes and give me your opinion?"

"Did they come with photos?" Karen asked.

"I think a request like that might have violated some law."

"But you've interviewed them all personally?"

"Yes."

"Then just pick the one you find least attractive, darling."

He chuckled. "Be serious. I want your opinion. Will you look at them?"

"I'll look," she promised. "How did the dress fit, Tami?"

"Apparently Shelley thinks I'm fat. It needs to be taken in quite a bit."

"Easier to do than letting it out," Mr. Taylor said.

"I didn't know you were a fashion expert, darling," Karen teased.

"My grandfather was a tailor."

"I know, all of the men in your family were Taylors."

"No, a tailor. T-a-i-"

"I was teasing, Garrett."

He smiled at her.

"So, Dad, I take it you aren't going to ask about my meeting with my mother," Eric said.

Garret and Karen's smiles faded. Tami felt the tension tingle out to the tips of her fingers. Even Andrew stopped toying with his food and looked from face to face. Julie however, continued to hum while she ate.

"And how _was_ your meeting with your mother, son? Did she crack out her snake charming flute?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Hell!" Julie exclaimed.

Tami didn't look at Eric with scolding eyes, as she might have in some other circumstance. She ignored her daughter's echo. So did everyone else.

"She wasn't like anyone you'd ever met, was she?" Mr. Taylor asked. "You felt alive just to be in her company."

"I liked her, yes. She was very...likeable."

Mr. Taylor took a slow sip of sweet tea. Then he put his glass down and looked right at Eric. "You don't find it odd that she hung up on Tami and then immediately turned around and called you and asked to meet you?"

"She was startled by Tami's call. And she was worried how her husband would react when he found out about me. Because you were right about that. She didn't tell him she'd had a child. But she thought about how much she's wanted to get in touch with me, and she came clean with him, and he was understanding. She's wanted to find me before now."

"Has she? Then why didn't she?"

"Well," Eric muttered, "Taylor's such a common name."

"There are a lot of Wendy Durants, and you still found her. You've been in the news, son. You were under consideration for the NFL draft. You've been on the radio, in newspapers, on TV. You shouldn't have been that hard to find."

"Well, she wasn't looking recently. She was looking from the time I was five to ten or so. I wasn't in any papers then. She looked for _five_ years, but she eventually gave up."

"Eric, until I moved here, I lived in Tyler my entire life. The house you grew up in is two miles from the house I grew up in. I've advertised my handyman services. If she was looking, I shouldn't have been that hard to find."

Eric pushed his plate forward angrily. "So what are you saying? Why do you think she wanted to meet me?"

"I can only assume she wants something."

"Wants what?" Eric half shouted. "She makes more money than you do! And I don't have anything. What could I have that she could possibly want?"

"I don't know, son. But it doesn't sit right with me." He looked at Tami. "And if you asked your wife, I bet she'd say it doesn't sit right with her either."

"No she wouldn't." Eric turned to Tami. He must have seen the worry in her face, because his expression changed. "You don't think she wants something, do you?" he asked.

"Eric, I don't know. I hope not. I hope getting to know her makes you happy. I want you to be happy. Just don't expect too much, sugar, okay?"

Eric shook his head. He pushed back from the table and threw his napkin down. "I'm going for a run."

Tami sighed when he was gone.

"I hope there's no sociopath gene," Mr. Taylor muttered.

"You don't really think she's a sociopath, do you?" Karen asked.

"I think she's a poster child for it," Mr. Taylor said and stood and took his bowl and spoon to the sink.

"Well Eric certainly didn't inherit that, darling. And is it possible that your anger over her rejection might have clouded your judgment of - "

"- No." He flicked on the water and began scrubbing. When he was done, he turned and leaned back against the sink. "Tami, hear me when I say this. I know it's too late to stop him from getting to know her. But you need to be ready to pick him up from the fall. Because she will make him feel like he's on top of the world. She will make him believe in her. She'll lift him up to a pinnacle, and then she'll drop him down."

Tami pushed her bowl forward, away from her suddenly sick stomach, and hugged herself.


	61. July 19 - August 2: Asking

**[July 19-29]**

Tami confessed to Eric that she was worried about him getting hurt by his mother. He responded with tight lips and a clenched jaw. Whenever Tami tried to broach the subject, he would change it. Things were not bad between them; they made love regularly, talked about other things, and dealt with the busy details of their lives, but there was an unspoken tension around that one particular subject.

Eric's mom would call him on the phone every night, and Tami would leave him alone to talk to her, listening to his happy laugh drift from the kitchen, and worrying about how attached he was already becoming.

They found an apartment six miles from Bowie High, in a relatively safe neighborhood in Arlington. It had a small balcony, two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen and breakfast nook, and a tiny laundry room with linen closet. Mr. Taylor installed an old washer and dryer for them that he'd picked up from a job site and fixed up himself, and then he had three of his workmen help move their things in.

Karen hired a new nanny for Andrew, and Tami threw herself further into the job hunt, with follow-up calls and a continued search for additional openings. Her list was full of striken-through school names, all but two, which were still "considering her application." She was growing increasingly nervous.

Eric commuted from the new apartment to Dallas for his certification program, and he watched game tape in the evenings and began to draw up lesson plans for his history classes. One Saturday, when they took Julie to the park, Eric got involved in a pick-up game of football. The other guys, who ranged in age from 17 to 30, were impressed by his skills and asked if he'd ever thought of playing in the amateur leagues. "No time for that," he said with a smile.

 **[July 30]**

Tami was finishing up the unpacking one evening when the phone rang. Only a handful of people had her new number, and two of them were the schools that were still considering her. She rushed for the phone, hoping to be asked to an interview, but it was only Shelley.

And Shelley was crying.

Through the tears on the other end of the line, Tami eventually made out her sister's words. Shelley had caught Javier in bed with one of her roommates. The wedding was off.

Tami pretended not to be relieved and instead consoled her sister as best she could. She offered to make phone calls for Shelley to the would-be attendees so that her little sister wouldn't have to go through the pain of telling person after person not to come.

"I'm keeping the car he bought me," Shelley said. "And the engagement ring. Maybe I'll pawn the ring and go to the Bahamas."

"Or maybe you can pawn it and pay for a semester of community college," Tami suggested.

Shelley sniffed. "Maybe I'll use it for cosmology school."

"You want to study science?"

"No! I want to do people's hair and make-up!"

Tami sighed. "Cosmetology, Shell. Cosmetology."

When she hung up the phone, Eric was standing behind her. He set an open box on the kitchen counter. "I found what you were looking for. The mugs got mixed in with a box of Julie's outgrown clothes."

"Stumpy must have packed that one," she said. The boxes had been sitting in storage all summer.

"Yeah. He wrapped each cup in a different outfit. Engineering genius, that one." He began unraveling a cup from a shirt. "I need to call him and see how he's doing. The Bears might be getting a new head coach soon."

"I talked to Gretchen the other day. She said Stumpy's being moved to wide receiver for his last season."

"Really? Huh. He might do well there." He slid a cup into the cupboard.

"Could you put them in the sink? I'll wash them first."

He took it down and put it in the sink. "You know who I haven't heard from in ages? Joey. You ever talk to Sarah?"

Tami had tried to stay in touch with Sarah, but they'd drifted apart. She thought that high school friendship, once so dear to her, was being phased out - not intentionally, and not with any malice, but gradually and inevitably. It made her sad to think that a chapter was closing on her life. "I got a letter from her in June." Tami had written back six weeks ago, but had not received a reply. "She said she'd got a job and was moving in with that law school boyfriend of hers."

"So no chance for Joey for sure, now, huh?"

Tami shook her head. "She wrote that Joey got a job as a financial analyst in Atlanta."

"Atlanta? Wow. I thought he'd be in Texas forever."

"Nothing is forever," she said with a sigh. "Least of all high school friendships."

He kissed the top of her head and returned to his project. "Was that Shelley on the phone?" he asked as he unraveled a pair of little pants from around a mug. "What happened?"

Tami told him.

"Can't say I'm surprised," he said. "She's not still marrying him, is she?"

"No."

"Good. Then can I meet all the Bowie coaches for a drink Saturday? I need to get to know them before my first day."

"Sure," she said, a little annoyed that he was so nonchalant about Shelley's broken heart. "I don't know what happened to my baby sister, Eric. She's such a flake now. She used to get As and Bs in junior high. She's not dumb. But sometimes she says and does the dumbest things."

He set a mug in the sink. "She's always been a flake, as long as I've known her."

"Well not as long as I've known her."

"People change," he said. "Sometimes for the worse. But sometimes for the better. Like my mom."

It was the first mention he'd made of his mother to Tami in days.

 **[August 2]**

Tami was talking to the pastor's wife when she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Julie devouring the last bite of a second doughnut she had snuck from the fellowship table. Tami had allowed the two year old only half of one. She scolded her daughter and wiped her hands and then looked around for Eric, whom she found out front, tossing a football back and forth with one of the deacons.

"You ready, babe?" he asked her as the approached. "I've got to get to that brunch with my mom."

On the drive back to the apartment, he said, "Let's stop church hopping and just settle here."

"Hopping?" Tami asked. "This is only the second church we've been to. There are two more I want to try before we decide."

"This one has sports leagues, Tami! They've even got spring flag football. I could actually play that. I won't be coaching then. I mean, spring training...but I'd have weekends free."

"Didn't you think the pastor's sermon was a little dry?"

"Sermons are always boring. They're sermons. Why do you think I draw play diagrams on those little notepads?"

"I didn't like the music much either."

"Those were old school hymns, Tami. That's good stuff."

"Wasn't it a little too big for you? Didn't you say no more than 500 members? I think they have 700."

"Nah. It's about right. A little big, but that's probably how it can have sports leagues."

"Let's just try two more, and if we don't like either one better, we'll come back here. You can join the football league even if you don't go to the church, right?"

"Yeah, probably, but - "

"- Doo-nut!" Julie shouted from her car seat in the extended cab of the pick-up. It was cramped back there. Tami needed to think about buying a second car soon. "I like doo-nuts!"

"See," Eric said. "Julie likes the church."

[*]

After Eric left to meet his mother for brunch, Julie took a rare nap. Perhaps she was experiencing a sugar crash. While the little one was snoozing in her new bedroom, Tami sat at the table in the breakfast nook and proofread her resume yet again. She wanted to see if maybe she'd overlooked some egregious error.

The front door opened and closed.

Tami had not expected Eric to be home for another hour. "Did you forget something, hon?" When she glanced up from her resume, she noticed how dark his eyes had grown and how his jaw line quivered.

"Yeah," he said. "I forgot not to be a goddamn fool." And then he kicked the kitchen chair that was on the other side of the table so hard that it went flying and slammed into the kitchen bar.

Tami winced, but she didn't react negatively. Instead she stood and came close to him, her hands in the back pockets of her jean shorts, unsure if she should try to touch him.

"She asked for something," he said bitterly.

"Money?"

"No. I told you she's a lawyer and doesn't need money."

"Then what?" Tami asked.

"My kidney."


	62. August 3-4: Deciding

**[August 3]**

Eric lay in bed with his arms behind his head. "If I give her my kidney, it's going to be hard to coach this fall. It's not playing football, but it's physical. I've got to run up and down the sidelines, throw the ball sometimes – sometimes I'm going to want to get in there with them. If you give someone a kidney, you have to take drugs after. And it affects your performance."

Eric's mother, it turned out, had developed some sort of inflammatory disease, and she'd lost 90 percent of the function of her kidneys. She was far down the waiting list for a living donor, and a kidney from a near relative was much more likely to result in a successful transplant. After she'd hung up the phone on Tami, it had apparently occurred to her that a child would be a good match.

Tami lazily caressed Eric's chest and abdomen. She shuddered at the idea of his perfectly, lightly tanned skin being cut open. "She should never have asked such a thing of you. I talked to Karen yesterday, and she said they usually discourage active, young males from kidney donations."

He sighed. He turned on his side and searched her eyes in the glow of the bedside lamp. "What if I say no, and she dies?"

"Eric…you don't owe her anything."

"No, I don't. But what if she dies, and she dies because I say no? How in the hell am I going to live with that?"

Tami pulled him close. He rested his head on her breast as she stroked his hair. She hated his mother for stepping back into his life only to give him this choice. "When would the operation be?"

"It would have to be soon."

"You're about to start summer training," she said.

"I know. I could lose this coaching position."

 **[August 4]**

Mr. Taylor called Tami and asked her to lunch. "You can leave Julie with our nanny."

"Well, Garrett, I need to at least meet and talk to the woman first."

"Yes, of course. But you can bet Karen's been thorough."

When she arrived at the Taylor house in Dallas, Tami quizzed the nanny briefly and felt comfortable leaving Julie in her care. Mr. Taylor took her to a Mexican place. She usually avoided drinking during the day, especially when she was out and about with Julie, but when he ordered her a margarita, it sounded just about perfect.

"You always order for women?" she teased him.

"They like it."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. Some might be insulted."

"You didn't turn it down."

"Only because that sounds really, really good right about now."

"Which I knew it would. Which is why I ordered it for you." He tapped his head. "I'm very perceptive for a dumb handyman."

Tami snorted.

"Women only hate it if you're wrong," he said.

"You haven't met a lot of modern women," Tami told him.

"Karen's a modern woman. And she loves it. As long as I guess right."

Tami shook her head and studied the menu. After they'd ordered - she ordered for herself - she crossed her hands over the table and said, "So let's get down to business. I assume you want to talk to me about something?" Her father-in-law, she was sure, hadn't just called her out of the blue and invited her to lunch on a workday to be friendly.

"You have to talk Eric out of it."

She knew he meant the kidney. Eric had told his father what his mother had asked for. They'd fought about it on the phone. Tami had heard Eric yelling, "I know you told me so! I know! But can you blame me for just wanting to meet her once!"

"We've been talking," Tami said. "He hasn't decided anything."

"If he gives her a kidney this summer, he can forget about this coaching job. She's asking him to delay his career, maybe even throw it away!"

Tami was just as angry as her father-in-law, but she was trying to remain calm for Eric's sake.

"How can he even be considering it?" Mr. Taylor asked. "For a woman who hasn't…who didn't…" He exhaled.

"He feels like her life is in his hands."

"Selfish bitch," Mr. Taylor muttered, and then apologized for his language. "What are the odds, do you think, that he's going to decide to do this?"

"I really don't know. But even if he doesn't…it's going to hurt him. He's been seriously distracted by this. And it's only going to get worse if she gets sicker."

"I paid her off once to keep her from him. I wish I could do it again. I wish I could give her my kidney. But Karen says they haven't fully perfected non-related living transplants yet." He ran a hand across his mouth. "I called her."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Found the number in the kitchen desk drawer. Eric left it. I tried to talk her into telling him she didn't need it."

"And?"

"She has a brother. I asked her why she didn't ask him, and she said they're estranged." He shook his head. "She is not a family woman, to put it mildly."

"Then what?"

"Then I yelled at her and…I didn't communicate very well I suppose. She hung up on me." He leaned back from the table while the waiter deposited Tami's margarita and his tequila sampler. "I tracked him down," he said after shooting one of the three tequilas. "Wendy's brother. He works in Austin. I'm going to drive there tomorrow to try to persuade him to donate his kidney to his sister. It would take the weight off Eric, if he knew there was another option."

"Persuade…how?"

"Well, I'm not planning on busting any knee caps."

"Are you planning to bribe him?" Tami asked.

He shot the second tequila on his sampler and hissed. "Whatever it takes."


	63. August 6: Tension

**A/N:** I appreciate every review! So thanks to all who comment. Reviews are one of the few rewards fanfic writers get. Well, that, and a temporary relief of the obsession...

 **[August 6]**

Tami, Karen, and the kids settled into the living room while Eric and his father disappeared onto the back porch with a six pack of beer. The elder Taylors had invited the younger over for dinner.

Julie was preoccupied with mothering her uncle. "Dwew," Julie said. "Star!" She held up one of the shapes from his shape sorter toy.

"Arrrr!" Andrew attempted to repeat. He reached for the star. Julie drew it back. He made an irritated, squealing sound.

"No, Dwew," Julie insisted, still unable to say her r's _before_ a vowel. Tami had read that could persist until six years old and still be perfectly normal, and she was only two. Julie was apparently talking very well for a child her age. Other people at the playground always asked Tami, _She's **how** old again?_ "Dwew, you need to say star now!"

"No!" He grabbed for her hand, and Julie relinquished the object with a frown. He promptly placed it in the shape sorter.

"I bet he's going to end up being called Drew," Karen said. "But I'm always using Andrew."

Tami ignored the small talk. She had bigger things on her mind. "Do you think Garrett is trying to talk Eric out of giving up his kidney?" She peered through the open blinds of the sliding glass door. Mr. Taylor was sitting slightly forward in a deck chair, his head bent toward Eric, talking. Eric nodded, and then his laughter penetrated the sliding glass door.

"Well, I think he's _leading up_ to it anyway," Karen said.

"Yeah. They don't sound like they're talking about kidneys at the moment."

"Do you need some wine, Tami? Let's go in the kitchen and get some wine."

Tami trailed after her. "Did Garrett go to Austin to talk to Wendy's brother yesterday?" she asked as Karen drew out a bottle.

"He did." Karen drove the corkscrew into the wine. "He left at seven in the morning and didn't get back until seven in the evening. Missed an entire day of work."

"Did he get anywhere?"

"The man says he's _thinking_ about offering his sister his kidney."

"What did Garrett offer him?" Tami asked.

Karen smiled and poured the wine. "I think that's something Garrett would prefer to keep to himself."

Tami took the proffered glass. "Surely he told you, though?"

"Tami," Karen said, almost scoldingly, like an adult talking to a child, and Tami was suddenly reminded that this woman was, technically speaking, her step-mother-in-law. Karen treated her often enough as an equal that Tami sometimes forgot.

"I'm sorry for asking," Tami said and sipped. "I just...I'm worried about Eric. And if his father could succeed with this….it would take a lot of pressure off him. He's going to feel guilty if he says no."

"I know. Garrett loves Eric. You know that. He's doing what he can." She took a big sip of the wine. "He even talked to _her_. Though I gather that conversation did not go well. And he was an absolute bear for the rest of the day." She sighed. "This a weight on him, too. I'm worried about my husband too, Tami. This has dredged up a lot of old pain for him. I wish Eric had never..." She trailed off.

"I wish that too. But maybe when this is all over, he'll at least have closure. It might not have been a pleasant revelation, but at least now he'll never again have to ask himself what she _might_ have been like."

"I don't know how much closure he's going to have if he ends up walking around without one of his kidneys," Karen muttered.

Tami glanced in the direction of the living room and wondered what Mr. Taylor was saying to her husband outside.

[*]

It was after eight when Eric and Tami drove home, and Julie fell asleep in her car seat in the cramped back seat of the extended cab of the pick-up. Tami was driving, because Eric had consumed four of those six beers. Unfortunately, he wasn't happily buzzed. He was quiet and solemn and his expression was a little bit surly.

"We need to get that second car soon," Tami said.

"A'ight. Start looking for what you want." He was staring out the window at the line of slowly moving traffic. An exit had been closed for construction, and there was a back-up.

She glanced at him with concern and then returned her eyes to the road. "What did you two talk about out there?"

"He tried to talk me out of it. He says if I do this, not only might it hurt my career, but it will establish a pattern. She'll ask me for other things in the future."

"And you don't think he's right about that?" Tami asked.

"No, I think he's right. But I also think if I say no, and she dies, I'm going to blame myself."

Tami exhaled. The traffic would have made her tense even without the weighty subject matter. Now she was tense and angry and worried and scared.

"I think, after I do this," Eric said, "I'm cutting off _all_ contact with her, and we should change our phone number. So she can't ask me for anything else."

Tami swallowed. "Does that mean you've decided to do it?"

He buried a hand in his hair and leaned his head against the passenger side window. "I don't know. I just don't know. But she expects an answer at the end of the week. So I have to decide by then."


	64. August 7: Relief

**[August 7]**

Eric finished up his emergency certification program on Friday, having spent the last week shadowing a teacher in a summer school classroom. He now officially had the green light to teach high school in the state of Texas, though he admitted to Tami that he felt unprepared. "All that blather for weeks," he said. "I don't know if the people who come up with these educational theories actually spend any time in a real classroom. It would have been better if they had just apprenticed me to a good teacher for the whole summer."

They celebrated his completion of the program by picking-up Chinese take-out and a bottle of wine. Eating out at a sit-down restaurant simply wasn't in the budget. Eric was distracted throughout the meal, no doubt thinking of his kidney and his mother. Tami offered to do the dishes and put Julie to bed, though they usually split those duties, while Eric slid onto the living room couch with the last glass of wine in the bottle and stared somewhat vacantly at ESPN. Tami had thought the splurge for cable an unusual one given their budgetary issues and Eric's general fiscal conservatism, but he claimed ESPN was a necessary work expense. "I learn from these games, Tami, from the commentary, from some of these shows. It's an _education_ for me, babe. I'll apply this stuff when I coach."

Julie asked for two stories and three songs tonight, and Tami indulged her. After the first story, she heard the phone ring, but it must not have been for her, because Eric didn't come to get her.

The TV was off when Tami returned to the living room. Eric was staring at the blank screen. His wine glass was empty and on the end table, resting on top of a copy of her resume she'd left there. That was about all that piece of paper was good for, she thought - a coaster. She lifted his wine glass, plucked up her resume, and slid down next to him with a sigh. "Do you think there's something wrong with this? Should I take off the waitressing? I thought I should show I had years of paid work experience, but maybe that's hurting me. Maybe - "

"- That was my mom on the phone."

Tami put her resume down on the coffee table. She turned to him and searched his eyes. She didn't like that she couldn't read the emotion there. His eyes usually said more than his mouth. "And?"

He took in a long shaky breath and exhaled. That sigh, at least, she recognized. Relief. And when she heard the relief in his sigh, relief flowed through her body as well.

"I'm off the hook for the kidney," he said. "Turns out her brother has volunteered to donate his. I didn't even know she had a brother. She acted as if I was her nearest living relation."

Tami wondered how much Mr. Taylor had needed to pay the man. She reached out and brushed a hair from Eric's forehead. "I'm so relieved," she told him. "I didn't want you to have to do that."

"Me either. I think maybe my father had something to do with this," he said. "As mad as he was."

"You're right." Tami told him about her lunch date with his father.

Eric shook his head. "I can't say I'm not glad, but I hate to be in debt to him. What do you suppose it cost him?"

"I don't suppose he's ever going to tell you that."

"Yeah," Eric agreed. "Probably not."

"How do you feel?" she asked him.

"Feel? I'm angry! Disappointed. But I'm just...I'm glad it's over. Because it _is_ over. I'm never talking to her again. I want us to change our phone number. I don't want to try to have a relationship with her, when it's pretty clear she was just pretending to want one with me."

"Okay," Tami agreed softly. The pain in his eyes made her heart ache. "I agree we should do that." She kissed him softly.

When he pulled away, he laced his fingers through hers. They sat side by side on the couch, quietly holding hands. She wondered what she should do or say to comfort him and feared saying the wrong thing.

Finally, he gave her the direction she needed. "I could really use a distraction," he said.

She smiled. "What kind of distraction?"

He smiled back, a mischievous twinkle lighting his eyes. "The good kind."

"The kind where…" she slid to her knees on the living room carpet before the couch and put a hand on the button of his shorts. She raised an eyebrow. "I do this?" She slid the button loose.

His eyes darkened with desire. He reached down and cupped a breast through the cotton of her shirt. "You're the best wife in the world."

She pulled down his zipper slowly and seductively while he circled her nipple with his thumb. "Don't you ever forget it, sugar."

 **[*]**

Later that night, as they spooned in bed, he said, "I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"About not listening to you or my dad when you were warning me not to try to pursue a relationship with her. I was foolish."

"You were human." She turned in his arms and kissed him. "And I know this is going to hurt for a while."

He smiled like a boy who has just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Well...a nightly blow job might speed up the healing process."

She rolled her eyes affectionately. He smiled and kissed her. With his forehead pressed to hers, he said, "I'm also sorry I've been so preoccupied with my mom that I haven't been there for you as much as I should have been. I know you're probably stressed out about Shelley's break up and about this job hunt. I'm sorry I haven't been a strong shoulder for you. If you want to talk about any of that now, though, I'm right here. Right now."

She did talk about it. She poured out her pent-up frustration. He held her and listened silently. Only when all of her words were out did he try to reassure her. "Shelley's better off without Javier. You know that. Soon enough she'll know that too. You're a good sister. She's lucky she has you to talk to. As for the job, you're smart, you're capable, you offer good advice, and you know how to listen. I'm sure you're going to get a job soon, because anyone who passes you up is a damn idiot."

She chuckled.

"And you know, Tami, we can afford for you to take your time finding something you really want to do. It'll be tight, sure, but we can manage it. If you end up taking a year off, or just working part-time while you look for that perfect match, we can do that. You're going to find something you love. You don't have to rush it."

"But you _do_ want me to keep looking? You don't want me to just stay at home?"

"What I _want_ is for you to be happy. That's what I want. More than anything else."

She kissed him. "Thank you," she whispered, and snuggled in, her eyes closed, weeks' worth of tension beginning to seep out of her limbs.


	65. August 9 - 15: Bargaining

**[August 9]**

Tami leaned over to Eric, "I can't believe he just said that."

They were trying a new church. The pastor had just said that women who worked outside the home were defying their God-given roles.

Eric took her hand and tugged. They were at the far right end of the pew, so it wasn't hard to sneak out and down the side aisle, but Tami still felt as if everyone was staring at them. They went to the church nursery.

"You talk," she said, too upset to want to explain why they were plucking their child halfway through the service.

"Of course," Eric said. "It's my God-given role."

Her eyes were angry arrows shooting at his, but he smirked. He told the nursery workers they'd had a family emergency and they needed to leave. Julie protested. She'd just begun her snack time. "You can bring the animal crackers with you," he told her.

As Eric drove them home, he asked, "So can we go back to the church with the spring football league now?"

Tami sighed. "Yes."

"They have good donuts too."

"Donuts!" Julie agreed from the backset. "Yum!"

Tami put down the sun visor. "Of course, I guess I'm not going to be violating my God-given role anyway, since I can't seem to _find_ a job."

"I bet when we know more people, and you start asking around...someone will know something or know someone who knows someone...Once we get settled in that other church, I bet you'll find a job."

"The primary purpose of a church is not to provide networking opportunities, Eric."

"No. Some of them also provide adult football league opportunities."

"Donuts!" Julie chimed.

 **[August 14]**

Eric threw himself into work in part, Tami thought, to distract himself from his disappointment over his mother. But he was also sincerely looking forward to his new role on the sidelines and the coming football season. Every day when he got home from summer training, he gave Tami a full-report. In the evenings, he drew up both plays and lesson plans for the coming year.

Tami meanwhile continued to receive rejections from her newest round of applications, along with notes that said they were looking for a counselor with more experience.

"How are you supposed to get experience if everyone wants someone who already has experience?" Tami complained to Eric one night over dinner.

"Volunteer?" Eric suggested.

"I'm not going to volunteer! I have over $8,000 in student loans! Would _you_ _volunteer_ for a job?"

"Well…uh…I'm getting $500 for this coaching gig, and I'll probably be putting in about 800 hours on coaching-related work this year, so…uh…"

Tami sighed. "I just want somebody to value me enough to pay me. I have a degree. I did an internship as part of that degree. I know what I'm doing! Sort of."

Eric smiled.

Tami laughed.

"You'll get a job, babe," he assured her. "You will."

 **[August 15]**

On the Saturday when Tami went to buy a family sedan (she was tired of dropping Eric off at work and picking him up so she could have the truck), she took her father-in-law for moral support. She'd never bought a car at a used car dealership before. Her first and only car she'd bought from an ad in the paper. Eric was at a teacher in-service, but he had told her that he didn't care what she bought as long as she liked it and stayed within budget and the interest rate was under 6%. Karen had taken Julie off her hands for the shopping excursion.

"I hope this doesn't take all day," she told Mr. Taylor as she sat in the chair on the other side of the salesman's desk. She'd found a four-door she liked well enough, and it was almost within budget. She'd asked for a lower price. The salesman had gone to talk to his manager.

"This is a little game they play," Mr. Taylor said. "Back and forth to the manager, to make you feel like they're working on your behalf, so you settle for a higher price."

The salesman returned and sat back down at his desk. "Well, I talked to my manager, and I got him to drop the price just a little - "

"- Let's cut the crap," Mr. Taylor looked at the man's name tag "John, why don't we? This is the price she wants." He pushed the number Tami had written on a piece of paper over to the man. "Get it for her right now, or we walk out of here. We're busy people."

Tami tried not to laugh at this authoritative display.

"Uh...I'll see what I can do."

"No, don't see what you can do," Mr. Taylor said. "This is the last time you are walking over there to your manager. The last time. Because if you don't come back with the price we want, there are dealerships all over the DFW area."

"I'll see what I can do." He grabbed the paper and walked over to his manager. When he came back, he said. "I think we can give you that price. Now let's talk about the great financing options we have - "

"- She's paying cash," Mr. Taylor said.

"What?" Tami laughed. "No, we need to talk about financing options for sure. I don't - "

"- This is your birthday present, Tami," Mr. Taylor told her. "From me and Karen."

"My birthday isn't until late fall."

"Then don't expect anything on your actual birthday."

Eric wasn't going to like it, her taking yet more money from his father. "I can't accept that, Garrett."

"Can you get us some coffee?" Mr. Taylor asked the salesman, who promptly disappeared. He turned to Tami. "Why not?"

"It's time for us to start making it on our own."

"I appreciate your independence and diligence, Tami, and I appreciate Eric's drive to provide for his family, but you've got student loans. You've got an apartment that's going to be over $800 a month with utilities. You've got a child, and you've got one teacher's salary between you."

"I'll get a job. Even if I have to swallow my pride and go back to waitressing, I'll get a job."

"I'm sure you will. I'm sure you two can do all this. But you shouldn't have to bury yourself under a mountain of debt when you have family. This is what family is for. Helping each other out."

"I can't, Garrett. Eric will be...it'll…"

"Wound his pride?"

"Yes."

Mr. Taylor shook his head. "How about a loan? An interest-free loan then?"

"No."

"How about lunch? Can I take you to lunch after you sign a loan for this thing?"

"You can take me to lunch. And you can buy me a glass of wine along with it."

She drove her new car home and then got in Mr. Taylor's to go to lunch. He bought an entire bottle of wine for them to split, and when she was on her second glass, she told him, "Garrett, I can't thank you enough for getting Wendy's brother to give her his kidney. Eric has cut off contact now. I'm so glad to have that chapter closed."

Mr. Taylor lay down his fork on his plate of pasta. "Then perhaps you should have persuaded Eric never to open that chapter in the first place."

She pushed her wine glass aside. "I was trying to be supportive."

"One good way to support your husband is to not let him do stupid things in the first place."

"And if Karen _told_ you not to do something you had it in your mind to do, how would you react?"

Mr. Taylor took a slow sip of his wine. When he set his glass down, he conceded, "Fair enough."

"I hope it didn't cost you too much."

He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "You really want to know, don't you?"

"Yes."

"I agreed to hire his son. Boy lives with his girlfriend in Fort Worth. Dropped out of college last year. Then he couldn't find a job."

"Oh," Tami said. She'd hoped he'd written a check. That was a major ongoing obligation, and with a college drop-out? "I'm sorry. How long do you have to keep him on?"

Mr. Taylor shrugged. "I agreed to take him on for a trial year, but, as it turns out, he's not a bad worker. Not at all. He just doesn't have much work experience and he needs some training. I think he dropped out of college because he's not an intellectual sort. I bet his parents made him go even though he never wanted to. But he isn't dumb. Far from it. He learns quickly, and he follows instructions. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if, six months from now, he turned out to be one of my most productive employees. I guess virtue _is_ its own reward." Tami was relieved to hear of this twist of good fortune. It made her feel less indebted to her father-in-law. "Frankly, I don't know why he didn't find a job sooner."

"Well," Tami said, "apparently it's hard to find a job without experience."

"Still no luck?"

She shook her head.

"If I needed a counselor on my staff...you'd be my first choice."

She chuckled. "Well I appreciate that."

He lifted the bottle of wine and raised an eyebrow.

"You should have the third," she told him. "I won't be able to drive if I do."

"I'm the one who drove here, Tami," he reminded her. "And Karen can bring Julie home to your apartment this evening."

Tami pushed her glass forward. "Well, if you insist."


	66. August 20: The Interview

**[August 20]**

It was Thursday, and classes started Monday. Eric was already at the tail end of summer training and preparing for the first day of school. Time was running out. No one was going to hire her.

While Tami half watched Julie drawing circles with a fat crayon on a sheet of construction paper, she thought about what other non-school related counseling jobs she could apply for. The ringing phone interrupted her reverie.

The secretary of West Morgan High was on the other end of the line. She said there had been a sudden opening, and they wanted Tami to come in for an interview right away. Could she be there in forty-five minutes?

Tami called Eric on his office phone, hoping and praying he wasn't on the field yet. Neither of them had a cell phone or would for another three years. That was an expense they could not justify.

"Yell-ow," answered a cheerful voice.

"May I please speak to Coach Taylor? This his wife."

"Your old lady wants you, Eric."

"Was that the head coach?" Tami asked with some disbelief. The man seemed rather unprofessional.

"Hell no," Eric muttered. "That's Mikey. He's an assistant. Listen, I'm headed out to the field. I'm at work. I can't be talking on the phone." As much as Eric liked his new coaching gig, he'd been a bit of a nervous mess about making a good impression ever since summer training started. This was his first "real" job and marked the start of his climb.

Tami understood that, but she was in a bit of a bind. She told him of her interview opportunity and her need to deposit Julie somewhere. Unfortunately, they had not yet made any friends in Arlington.

"Well, see if Karen can watch her," Eric said.

"She's in classes."

"See if my dad can. He can probably flex his schedule."

"Eric, even if he can, it'll take him at least a half hour to get here. My interview is in forty-five minutes! I'll be late! Can I just drop her off with you on my way? I could bring a blanket. She could sit on the sidelines and play with blocks."

"Tami, I'm working. I can't keep an eye on her while I'm training my JV guys."

"Eric, this is the only interview request I've gotten!"

"It's not going to look good, me bringing my daughter to work. You know she's going to wander off. She might go start playing in the parking lot."

"Then don't let her!"

"I can't keep an eye on her when I'm coaching. It's not safe."

"This is important to me, Eric!"

"I'm going to make a poor impression if you drop her off and I'm trying to do - "

"- Fine. Karen was right!"

"Right about what?"

"It's all about you and your career! You don't give a damn about me or my goals!" The frustration had overwhelmed her. She was angry, but more at the situation than at him. He was a convenient target, however.

There was a strange silence on the other end of the line. Just _how_ angry had she sounded? Eric finally spoke, softly. "That's not true, babe. I do care. I just...listen...uh...why don't you bring Julie by the field? You could put her on a blanket on the sidelines. She could play with blocks or something."

 **[*]**

Tami resembled a firefighter getting ready to leave the station as she got dressed. She applied make-up as if cosmetology were a competitive speed sport. At this time of day, fortunately, it took her only ten minutes to get to Bowie High.

When Eric saw her coming, he blew his whistle and shouted, "Water break!" The handful of players that he appeared to be in charge of stopped doing high knees and walked toward the water barrel. As Tami handed Julie over to Eric, she could see the head coach, a tall, lean gray-haired African-American man, look up from his clipboard from several yards away. The man shifted his hat and appeared to frown, though it was hard to tell from this distance. Eric was right. He wasn't going to make a good impression doing this.

"How long is this going to take?" Eric asked.

"I have no idea," she said. "I'm sorry." She was feeling bad about lashing out at him earlier. "I'll get back here as soon as I can."

"You look real pretty."

She was wearing high heels, a pale blouse, and a knee-length skirt. "I want to look professional."

"Professionally pretty." He winced. "That's not what I meant. That sounds bad."

She laughed. "Thanks for doing this, hon."

"Good luck."

As she turned and began walking to her car, she heard two loud whistles. Not coach's whistles. Cat-call- style whistles. After that followed laughter from several teenage boys. And then she heard Eric shouting, "That's ten laps for everyone!"

"Why everyone?" a player shouted.

"Because almost everyone laughed."

"I didn't!" a boy shouted.

"Then you'll especially want to thank Hernandez and Jackson for your laps later." He blew his whistle. "Now get running!"

"Yeah!" Julie shouted from where she stood, close at this heels.

Tami smiled and hurried through the open gate of the field to her car.

[*]

Tami didn't much care for the interviewing principal, a bald, skinny, forty something man named Ronald Monroe, who kept saying things like, "Now, if you get this job, you're going to want to avoid low-cut shirts, because the boys are going to love you" and "Now, if you get this job, be sure to stop by and say hi to me at lunch," and, "Now, if you get this job, your smile will light up the school." She also didn't like the part where he said, "This job is part-time. You'd be our secondary counselor. You'd help with scheduling."

"Scheduling?" Tami had not earned a B.A. in Psychology to do scheduling. "I was hoping to counsel students."

"Well...our primary counselor handles all that. He's good with the kids."

Tami could be good with the kids.

"We just need someone an extra two days a week to help with the scheduling and class changes and field some of the parents who like to complain and that sort of thing."

"You want someone to...field complaining parents?"

He made a motion as if tossing a baseball and laughed. "Yeah. I bet you'd be good at that, Ms. Taylor. Especially if you meet with the dads."

"Mrs. Taylor," she corrected him. Maybe that would stop all the inappropriate comments. "My husband is a history teacher and a football coach at Bowie High in Arlington. He used to play football. For Baylor." Just so, you know, her tone said, he's a strong and sizeable man.

"Yes, well, you're clearly vivacious. I'm sure you'd have the energy for the job. You'd work Tuesday and Thursday 7 AM to 4 PM."

Just two days? "So it's not a salaried position?"

"Not in the sense of a position with benefits. It's part-time. Fifteen hours a week."

"That sounds like 18 hours a week."

"Well, you'd have a thirty minute lunch break. You wouldn't get paid for that."

"Then 17 hours a week."

"Maybe it is 17 hours a week. You'd be paid $450 a month, and you'd work eleven months of the year. You'd have all of July off. Be back in August for scheduling."

Tami narrowed her eyes as she attempted to do the math in her head. "That's about $6 an hour." She was already making $6.50 an hour by the time she stopped working in the Baylor Admissions Office, and she hadn't even had a degree yet. Had she really gone through college just to get paid less?

"I don't know the exact figure," Principal Monroe said, "But it's a very rewarding job. You can start on Monday."

"I have the job?" Tami asked.

"Can I get one of the secretaries to get you started on the paperwork?"

The knot of disappointment in Tami's stomach began to unravel toward resignation. This was the only offer on the table. Yet she didn't like the idea of not actually counseling anyone, and she didn't like this man who would be her boss. She would be bringing in less than $5,000 a year for the family. She sighed. "I need to discuss it with my husband."

"I'd have thought an independent lady such as you wouldn't need her husband's permission."

"We make decisions, together, for the family unit." Mostly, she just wanted time to think about whether or not she could stomach this job.

"Well, okay, then," Principal Monroe said, rising from behind his desk and extending her his hand, "But I better hear a yes by tomorrow, or we go to the next applicant."

Reluctantly, she shook his hand. On the way out, she glanced at the secretary, a pretty, early-30-something woman, who gave her a sympathetic look.

Tami frowned all the way to her car.


	67. August 20 con't: Discussion

**[August 20 con't]**

When Tami went to reclaim Julie, the girl was wearing her father's cap (which was falling down over her eyes, despite being tightened as far as possible) and had his whistle slung around her neck (which fell nearly to her feet). The little girl was walking up down the sidelines imitating Eric's gestures and echoing some of his words.

Eric saw Tami, crouched down next to Julie, and whispered something. Julie blew on the whistle, loud and shrill, and shouted, "Water Bweak!"

Tami smiled as she came to a stop before her husband and daughter. Eric squatted down, removed the cap and whistle from Julie, and put them back on himself. "How'd it go?" he asked when he stood up.

"I got the job."

"That quick you got the job?" He grinned. "Well congratulations!"

"It's only two days a week. And it only pays $450 a month."

She saw the words _That's it?_ on his face, but he didn't speak them. Instead, he said, "Well, that'll cover the car payment. And gas. And probably babysitting too. That's great."

She knew he meant to encourage her, but his words deflated her instead. Her job would, in essence, cover her work expenses, because if she wasn't working, they didn't really need that second car or that gas or that babysitting.

He saw her expression. "Think of it this way," he said. "You get the experience without it costing you anything out of pocket. And when you're done, you own a car, and you apply for a better paying job."

That was better, at least. "I haven't said yes or no yet. I have to decide by tomorrow."

"Mrs. Taylor, ma'am?" Tami looked over Eric's shoulder at the two boys who had drawn up behind him, one tall and the other somewhat squat. The tall boy had spoken.

"Yes," she said.

"I apologize for my crude behavior earlier this morning," the tall boy said.

"Yeah...uh...me too," the squat one mumbled, looking at the field instead of her.

Eric cleared his throat.

The squat boy raised his eyes to Tami's and said, "I apologize for my crude behavior earlier this morning."

"It will never happen again," the tall boy said.

"We're deeply ashamed," the squat one said.

"I accept your apology," Tami told them while trying to suppress her smile.

"Go on now," Eric told them. "Get your water."

"Yes, sir, Coach Taylor, sir!" They jogged off.

"Sorry about those boys," Eric said. "I guess it's going to be my job to teach them manners too." One of those _boys_ couldn't have been more than six years younger than him. What a difference a few years made, Tami thought. She would never understand these women who went after much younger men. She had no use for a boy. She wanted a _man_. And she was glad to have one.

Tami hooked a finger through one of Eric's belt loops. "It's kind of sexy to see you in command," she said.

"Yeah?"

She smiled suggestively.

He leaned in and kissed her. "Wait until you see me coach my first game," he whispered. He pulled back a little and looked in her eyes.

"Taylor!" shouted the head coach from across the field, "Romance your woman on your own time! On your own time!"

"I gotta get back to work," Eric muttered, and kissed her quickly on the cheek.

[*]

On the way home from work, Eric had picked up a bottle of sparkling white wine to celebrate Tami's job offer. She wished he hadn't. She didn't feel like the offer was much to celebrate.

They had a "balcony date night" after Julie was in bed. Even though it was still 89 degrees at 8:15 PM, it felt cool compared to last week. Their balcony was tiny, just big enough for two deck chairs and a small, circular table, and it overlooked only a sparse buffer of dried-up woods between two apartment complexes, but coming out here and talking was a way to connect and the closest thing to a date they could afford at the moment.

"It's not quite what I was hoping for," she said. "This job."

"Well, but it's something," he encouraged her. "And would it be so bad to spend three days a week with Julie?"

"No, it wouldn't. I missed too many of her firsts when I was busy with work and college. And this is a fun age. She's walking and talking and running and learning so much every day. If only the job were appealing, I wouldn't mind that it was only part-time."

"What's not appealing about it?" he asked.

"They only want me to do scheduling. No actual counseling." Tami was comforted by Eric's sympathetic frown. "And the principal…" She shook her head. "Good Lord."

"What about her?'

"Him." When she told him about some of the things the man had said to her, she could see his jaw clenching tight and his eyes darkening with anger.

"Where is this school again?" he asked. "It's called West what?"

"Eric, don't go down there and start a fight."

"I think he already started a fight, Tami. Seriously? Don't wear low-cut shirts because the boys will love you?"

"Well, your boys did love me, and my shirt wasn't even that low cut today."

"Well, yes, the boys _will_ love you. That's just a fact. But it's one thing to _think_ it. It's another thing to _say_ it. Especially when he's in a position of….What the hell is wrong with that man?"

Tami shook her head.

"Was he looking at your...when he said that, was he looking - "

" - I would have to nip all that in the bud fast if I went to work there."

"You're not going to work there," Eric told her. "You don't _want_ to go to work there."

She sighed and plucked her wine up from the small table between them. "You're right. I don't. Not even a little bit."

"Then don't," he insisted.

"It's my only offer. The school year starts on Monday! No one is going to hire me."

"You don't know that. Someone could quit a few weeks into the year. It happens. You can apply somewhere other than schools. You were talking about that right?"

"Yeah, but, then I go through the month's long process again - "

"- Tami, you don't have to take a job you're going to hate. We'll manage. I can support this family until you find something you want to do, babe. It'll be tight, sure...I know that. But there's no reason for you to do this. None."

She scowled. She slipped down in her chair. "And I was so excited to have an interview," she said.

He took her wine from her hand, leaned over, and kissed her gently. "I'm sorry, babe. I'm sorry it didn't work out." He kissed her again, softly.

"You have nice lips, sugar, but I need my wine back right now."

He handed it to her. She sat up in her chair again. "Guess I start faxing out my resume again tomorrow."

"We'll be a'ight," Eric assured her. "You'll find something."

She didn't reply.

He plucked his own wine up from the table and sipped it. "So…did you hear?" he asked.

"Hear what?"

"Mo McArnold got cut from the roster."

Tami had forgotten it was that time of year. NFL teams would have to be down to 53 by August 31 this year.

"He didn't even get to make it to his first season?" she asked.

Eric shook his head. "Just think if that had happened to me. I'd have wasted my time for the past couple months, be out with nothing to show for it."

Well, he'd have his signing bonus, and Tami was pretty sure he would not have spent all of his per diem either, and they'd probably be about $10,000 ahead right now, but she didn't say any of that. Instead, she said, "That' right. You'd have no teaching credential, no job lined up."

"You know...I think it's kind of nice to be settled. To know exactly where I am and where I'm headed." He smiled while he spoke, and it warmed her to see how happy he was. If he could get over not making it to the NFL, and find happiness in a modest teaching and coaching job, she supposed she could get over her present disappointment too. "It feels good to be steadily moving toward something I can actually accomplish," he said.

"Slow and steady…" She smiled at him. "That's why they call you the tortoise."

He waved a finger at her. "Don't you start with that. No one _ever_ called me the tortoise but that one sportscaster."

She laughed and put a hand on his thigh. "Hey, slow and steady is not a bad thing. Some girls really appreciate slow and steady."

He grinned. He stretched his arm out and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "When we're done with this wine, you maybe want to turn in, let me show you just how slow and steady I can be?"

She smiled over her wine glass. "I just might want that."

They drank and talked and laughed, and she let herself forget her frustration for a time.

He was gentle and teasing with her when they went to bed. He caressed her skin with feather-like touches of his fingertips, exploring her slowly and thoroughly, finding just the right spots to kiss and touch in just the right way, until she was whimpering and pleading with him to take her. His breath echoed hers as he moved inside her with strong, deliberate strokes. She pulled him close, her fingernails digging into his back when she came. She apologized later when she saw the scratch marks.

"It's a'ight," he said. "I consider it a badge of honor."

She laughed.

He snuggled against her and kissed her ear. "I like making you lose a little bit of your control," he whispered.

It wasn't long before he was asleep with his arm slung around her waist and his cheek smushed against the edge of her pillow. Tami, however, lay awake, staring a the ceiling.

The peace faded and the frustration returned. She slid out from under his arm, dressed, and went to the kitchen table to review her resume yet again.


	68. August 30: Opportunity

**[August 30]**

Tami's mind drifted as the pastor droned on. Other than the dull preaching, Tami had decided this church wasn't so bad, even if Eric had chosen it based solely on the spring flag football league. It was a sizeable, without being impersonal, and it seemed to have a lot of good programs, including a Mommy and Me playgroup on Tuesdays afternoons that Tami had tried last week. She wasn't particularly concerned about Julie making friends, but _she_ needed to make friends. The women in the group were friendly, and, to Tami's surprise, educated - not the typical housewives she had known in Tyler. Several worked part-time and offered her advice on improving her resume. The church and its grounds were pretty. The pastor had yet to say anything offensive. She could get used to attending here.

Eric nudged her now and pointed to something in the bulletin. She'd amused herself by daydreaming during the sermon, while Eric had apparently been reading. Julie was probably having a blast bossing around the older kids in the preschool nursery class where they'd deposited her before the service.

Tami glanced down at a section in the announcements headed "Job Opportunities." Above Eric's finger, there was a listing for a church secretary. She sighed. She didn't want to be a secretary. It was time to pursue her calling in counseling. But she supposed she'd apply. She wanted to work, to make money, to contribute, and at least the pastor probably wasn't going to come onto her.

She shrugged at Eric. His eyes widened as though to say, "What? I thought you'd love this!"

"Fine, I'll apply," she whispered. "I can be a church secretary for a while."

He shook his head. He tapped the paper again. She looked, and that was when she realized he'd been pointing to the paragraph below, not above, his finger:

 _Christian Counseling Ministries (CCM) is seeking to hire new, part-time counselors. CCM is a non-profit organization that provides free or reduced cost counseling services to troubled teens throughout the Arlington area. Psychology or counseling degree preferred. 20-30 hours a week. Flexible scheduling. $7.50/hr to start. Opportunity for advancement._

Tami snatched the bulletin from his hand and read it again.

 **[September 3]**

The JV games were held on Thursday nights, though Eric would be helping out on Friday nights too, and, if they were lucky, a couple of his guys would get a few minutes of play time with the big boys.

It was an entirely new experience watching Eric coach instead of play. Tami wasn't quite sure where to look - at the game, or at the sidelines. She did a little of both, and she noticed that the head JV coach turned to Eric often. She also noticed the head coach of the varsity team noticing all this. He was observing the JV game and sizing up the up-and-coming players but also, Tami suspected, sizing up his coaches.

The Bowie Bandits were playing well. Eric must feel proud of himself, Tami thought, and full of masculine adrenaline. She was pretty sure the sex tonight was going to be thrilling, like it so often was after his winning college games. She tried to pay attention to the game instead of thinking about that, but it was hard not to let her mind wander, especially when he would dig his hand into his thick hair in expectation, or when he would flash that endearing smile when one of this boys did well, or when she would hear his deep, commanding voice overcome the background noise.

When he did meet her at the sidelines after the game, which Bowie won by 6, his eyes were as shiny as they were when he was drunk, and he was breathing a little heavily from all the running along the sidelines. His hair was adorably rumpled and just a little damp, the way it looked after sex.

God she wanted him. It didn't often hit her like this, the urgent need, but when it did...

"Good game, hon," she managed finally. "You did great."

He smiled and kissed her and whispered, "Even if I'm not playing, do I still get a victory -"

"- Of course you do. I'll get Julie to bed before you get home."

 **[*]**

When he walked through the front door of the apartment, which opened immediately on the living room, she practically attacked him. He laughed in surprise at first, but then kicked the door shut behind him and returned her passion. They ended up on the living room floor, Eric rolling her on top of him so that he'd be the one to endure any potential rug burn, and he did get a good one.

"Badge of honor?" Tami asked as she kissed his angry back later. He'd rolled to his side to show her the sacrifice he'd made for her. She was spent and satisfied and naked except for her blouse, which was unbuttoned down to the last two buttons. She kissed his burn one more time before he rolled to face her.

"That was hot," he said. "You were..." His smile was wide and sloppy. "You were _horny_."

"I am sometimes."

"After games," he said.

She shrugged. "Other times too."

"Not like _that_." He kissed her nose. "I guess the advantage of being a JV assistant is that I'm at _two_ games a week."

"How many coaches does a high school football team need anyway?"

"As many as it can get. And they got me cheap."

"You were an amazing bargain. I hope they raise your stipend next year."

He urged her up from the floor and they went to bed. She stripped her shirt off the rest of the way, and they crawled together naked beneath the sheets. She suspected they'd both want to go for two eventually, after some conversation.

"So," he asked, when she was spooned back against him. "How did the interview go this afternoon?" They hadn't had a chance to talk about it. He'd been at the school getting ready for the game. She'd left Julie with a friend she'd made at her mommy and me playgroup when she went for the interview.

"I feel good about it," she said.

"But they didn't offer you the job right then and there?"

She laughed. "No. But they said it was okay that I don't have much experience, that they realize they aren't paying much, and they let inexperienced counselors do mostly the fee-free work. So if I screw up, they won't feel like they've cheated anyone, at least financially."

"Did they say that?" he asked.

"No, but I read that between the lines. And, when I get more experience, pay goes up, the hours go up." She realized she was already talking as if she had the job, but she did feel quite confident about the interview. She'd spoken to the director of the ministry, and she felt they'd hit it off. He was a middle-aged man who did not say questionable things. He'd shown her photos of his own daughters, who were four and eight years older than Julie. "I think they do good work, helping kids who can't really afford counseling. I'd love to work for them."

"$7.50 an hour is not bad," Eric said, "for a first job. I mean, when you think about all the time I'll be putting in, between the teaching and the coaching, I think I'm going to end up making about $8 an hour."

"More like $9," she told him. "I know. I did the math one time."

He kissed her bare shoulder. "It's not bad, Tami. Especially if you love it. More than you were making at Baylor."

She turned in his arms and kissed his lips. "I know it's not bad. I hope I get it."

"You will," he told her. He smiled. His eyes roamed her chest in the light of the one lamp they'd left on.

"You need to get up early for work tomorrow, sugar. You've got another game."

"I know what would help me get a good night's sleep."

She chuckled and put a hand flat on his chest. He covered that hand with his and slid it downward.

 **[September 8]**

When Eric got home from practice, Tami told him about the phone call she'd just received. "I got the job!"

"Of course you got the job," Eric said. "Balcony date night? Should I go get some wine?"

"Sparkling," she told him.

When they were settled in the chairs and drinking, she talked about how nervous she was, but also excited.

"That's how I felt when I started this coaching job. Well, and the teaching."

"How's the teaching going?" He didn't talk about that much. Football consumed him these days.

"Not bad," he said. "The principal sat in the back of class today and watched me. That was nerve wracking. And she said I shouldn't make the kids do push-ups when they forget their homework, but, I tell you what, the ones I've made do that have _not_ forgotten their homework a second time."

Tami laughed. "I bet you're a fun teacher."

"I told you. I don't want to be fun. I want them to learn. Although…I am thinking of having them do a war re-enactment with water balloons on the baseball field."

"Not the football field?"

"I'm not going to mess up my field." He reached out, took her hand, and raised it to his lips to kiss it. "So tell me more about this job you're starting."

She knew that half the reason he was listening so intently was that he wanted to get laid later, but she didn't care. He was listening. She talked about her fears, her hopes, the techniques she planned to apply...the stars came out, and, at length, they went in.


	69. September 14: First Day

**[September 14]**

Tami hit the ground running. On her first day of work, she spoke to a 16 year old girl who had been suspended from school for a string of bad behavior. Her mother had sent her to CCM in hopes that a counselor would help "straighten her out." In that first session, Tami learned the girl had been acting up in school because she'd been date raped. She hadn't been able to bring herself to tell anyone, and she was lashing out.

Next she met with a 17 year old high school drop-out who was living in his parent's basement. They didn't understand why he was so uninterested and so unwilling to go to school. Tami learned that he was highly intelligent and bored out of his skull, and she asked to meet with the parents later in the week to discuss options for gifted schooling.

Then she met a 15-year-old girl who had come to her session immediately after school. Her parents didn't know she was getting counseling. They were going through a divorce, and she had become a pawn in the battle.

As Tami sat in her car afterward, stuck in traffic backed-up from construction, she thanked God for her steady life. She wasn't much of a praying sort, but she prayed that evening. She'd had her share of difficulties in life, having lost her father too young, having made some poor decisions her first three years of high school, and having gotten pregnant unexpectedly, but on the whole, her life was so beautiful and stable. Her daughter was healthy and happy. Her husband was a rock. Her mother, though sometimes annoying, had been a surprising help to her over the past few years. Her father-in-law was like the father she had lost, an affectionate protector. She made a note to tell everyone in her life how much each one meant to her.

Tami inched forward the next mile before she was able to take the exit toward her father-in-law's house now. The elder Taylors had lost yet another nanny. "They keep getting engaged and quitting!" Mr. Taylor had grumbled. "There ought to be a law against nannies getting married."

He and Tami had worked out a childcare exchange arrangement. Mr. Taylor would flex his schedule to be home with Andrew on Mondays and Wednesdays, and he would also watch Julie at that time. Meanwhile, Tami would not schedule any counseling sessions on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and she would watch Andrew those days. Karen had no classes on Fridays, and so she would allow Tami to drop Julie with her then. Because her new office was about halfway between Dallas and Arlington, Tami didn't even have to go very far out of her way. She loved that Julie was with people she trusted and who loved her, not to mention the fact that it saved money.

"Why don't you stay for dinner?" Her father-in-law asked her when she arrived. "I know Eric is going to stay and watch game tape after practice. Karen won't be home until nine tonight. I could use the company, and you'd do well to avoid rush hour traffic going back."

Tami wasn't difficult to convince. Mr. Taylor grilled some brisket, while she threw together a salad, and they drank the last two glasses in an already open bottle of wine. Meanwhile, Andrew and Julie drank milk and ate apple sauce and chicken nuggets.

"How's Karen?" Tami asked. "You guys still maintaining the balance?"

"More or less. It'll get rougher when she starts her residency next year. But I think if I just dig in and hold on...it's a season, you know."

"I know all about seasons," Tami said. "But mine's going to come around every year. Football season is even busier for coaches than for players."

"I guess so. Lots of planning."

"You should come out and watch the JV game this Thursday," she told him. "It's going to be at West Moreland High at 7."

"Well, he's _coaching_ , not _playing_. You can't really watch a man _coach_."

Tami could. "It would do him good to know his father is proud of him as a _coach_."

"Well, I can't this Thursday. I have a phone conference about an important project. I'm trying to win a major remodeling contract for an apartment complex."

"Then come _next_ Thursday," she insisted.

"It's just...that's too late for Andrew to be up. He gets cranky after 8. I'd have to get him a babysitter for a couple of hours, until Karen gets home from classes."

"Then get him a babysitter."

"May I be escused?" Julie asked.

"You may," Mr. Taylor told her. "Wash your hands and face."

Julie slid down her chair and climbed onto the step stool by the kitchen sink.

"I think it would mean a lot to Eric to see you there," Tami said. "I know he didn't follow the course you wanted him to, but he's working hard to follow his own path. And it would be good for him to feel he has his father's approval."

"I'll see what I can do." Mr. Taylor stood and cleaned Andrew's hands and face with a wet wipe and set him loose from his high chair. Julie turned off the water and stepped down. Andrew toddled a few steps, fell to his knees, and crawled after his niece to the living room. "I guess Julie took after your side of the family," Mr. Taylor said. "Andrew is not advancing nearly as rapidly. Was your father a genius?"

Tami smirked. "Why do you assume my mother isn't the genius?"

Mr. Taylor chuckled and sat back down. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I don't mean to laugh. Your mother is intelligent, I'm sure. But she's content with…small things." He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "Karen is not content with small things. But then again, neither am I. We suit each other. But sometimes it's like iron sharpening iron." He chuckled to himself. "It's good though."

Tami plucked up her glass of wine. "Speaking of my father…." She wasn't sure why this was a difficult thing to say, but after today she needed to say it. "Thank you for assuming that role. For being a father to me these past two or three years."

Mr. Taylor blinked. Her words had clearly surprised him. "It's…I…" He laughed. "Well, the truth is, I like having a daughter. And I appreciate that you're a good wife to my son. Eric's a good kid. He's the kind of young man who tries to do the right thing. And he's got a traditional streak a mile wide. I use to worry about him marrying the wrong person. For a long time, I worried that would happen, because I think he would have married anyone he happened to be dating, if he had dated her long enough, and she had wanted to get married. I don't think he would have thought much beyond - I'm dating her, and it's about that time. So it's just dumb luck on his part that he ended up with you." He stood and pushed in his chair. "We better go out there and keep an eye on them."

When Tami got home at 7:50, she found Eric eating left over lasagna in his recliner, a dribble of tomato sauce on his chin, and game tape running.

"My dad talk your ear off?" he asked her.

"No. We had a reasonable amount of conversation. I'll be home earlier on Wednesday."

"How was your first day of work?"

"Put your daughter to bed," Tami told him, "and I'll tell you _all_ about it."

"That bad?" he asked with a look of concern.

She shook her head. "No, just that meaningful."

He smiled and popped his recliner closed.


	70. September 24 - Thanksgiving: Moving On

**[September 24]**

"Is this seat taken?" Mr. Taylor gestured to the bleachers next to Tami. She had a flashback to Eric's first college game, and she smiled. She'd been afraid he wasn't going to come.

"It's all yours," she said.

"Dew?" Julie asked.

"Home with a babysitter," Mr. Taylor answered her. "You'll see him Monday though."

By the end of the JV game, which Bowie won, Julie was in a crazy sleep-deprived buzz because it was past her bedtime, so she threw herself ecstatically at her father on the sidelines and was giggling when he plucked her up for a hug. Tami kissed Eric quickly on the mouth. "Good game, hon. I'm proud of you."

"Well coached game, son," Mr. Taylor said. "You do seem to be in your element."

"Yeah?" Eric asked with a hint of doubt in his voice. "You think?"

Mr. Taylor slapped Eric's shoulder. "NFL material son, NFL material. And those coaches make over a million!"

"I'm never going to coach for the NFL, Dad."

"Reach for the stars, Eric, and you might land on a high tower."

Tami announced she had to get Julie home and to bed, and Mr. Taylor walked them to their car. "Hold on a second," he said, "I have something in my truck I want you to give Eric for me."

He returned after she had Julie strapped in and handed her a bottle of brown liquid. "Scotch," he said. "That's what a real coach should have after a victory. Not beer. Scotch. Tell him I want him to drink one every time he wins a game, and I better see this bottle empty by the end of next season."

Tami shook her head, but she took the bottle, and when Eric came home and slumped down on the couch, she poured him one and related his father's words.

Eric rolled the scotch on his tongue before swallowing. "Not bad," he said. "I could get used to this." He took another sip. "I'm surprised he came to the game. Did you make him?"

"No one makes your father do anything, Eric."

"Did you hear what he said? About coaching the NFL? The man's insane."

She chuckled. "Is that a real saying, about reaching for the stars and landing on a high tower, or did he just make that up?"

"I think he made it up."

"But I bet it felt good to have him there, huh?"

Eric shrugged. "He'll still always think I should have – "

"- Stop. Just stop. He's accepted your decision. Accept his acceptance, Eric."

Eric drained the scotch. "How was work today?"

"Good. I think I made some progress with one of my clients."

"Good."

He was quiet for a while. She lay her head on his shoulder.

"So…." he said eventually, "is it time for my victory screw?"

She smiled. "Only if you can catch me." She stood up and ran toward the bedroom. When she was halfway down the hall, she heard his knee hit the coffee table, the empty scotch glass roll to the carpet with a thud, and Eric curse.

"I'll give you a three second handicap," she hollered back.

 **[October - November 1992]**

Eric and Tami continued to settle comfortably into their jobs and to build relationships in the community. Eric's JV season was fairly successful, with more wins than losses. Tami invited the varsity head coach and his wife over for dinner toward the end of the season, and during the meal the man intimated that, if Eric continued to prove himself next season, he might be replacing the varsity QB coach his third year on the team. Eric's JV coaching contract was renewed, with a $100 bump in his stipend.

As much as Eric loved coaching, he was looking forward to concentrating on teaching for the next semester. Tami continued to work three days a week, enjoying her days off with Julie, and, at less than three months on the job, she won the "new counselor of the year" award from the counseling ministry. She'd hoped the award would come with money, but it only came with a plaque. Eric wanted to hang it on the wall of the living room, but she left it in her shared office at work.

They spent Thanksgiving day at the parsonage in Tyler. Shelley brought a new boyfriend, who, to Tami's relief, was only twenty-one.

"What do you think of Shelley's boyfriend?" she asked Eric, who had snuck away to the living room to watch football as soon as he was done eating. The rest of the family was still in the dinning room.

"He talks a lot," he said, not taking his eyes from the TV.

She slid down next to him on the couch. "Do you think he's duplicitous?"

"No. I think he's an open book. He says _everything_ he thinks." He made a talking motion with his hand. "He talks a lot for a rocker. Rockers should be sullen and silent. Not all...bubbly."

"I don't know how much of a rocker he is. He plays one gig a week." The young man made his real living, such as it was, as a waiter. "At least Shelley took that cosmetology class." Tami's sister was working full-time at a salon now.

"Uh-huh." Eric leaned forward and stared at the TV.

"I don't have your attention, do I?"

"Sure. Whatever you think."

She shook her head. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Happy Thanksgiving, hon."

The rest of the family came into the living room, settled into chairs, and began talking. Eric was clearly frustrated by the distraction from the game, but halftime soon enough came on, and so he muted the television.

Pastor John announced he was retiring to work on a novel.

"A novel?" Tami asked. "What genre?"

"Historical fiction. So I might be tapping the history major there for information," he said, nodding toward Eric.

Later, when Tami was helping to clean up the kitchen, her mother said, "I think John is having a bit of a mid-life crisis."

"It is a little early for him to retire," Tami said. "He's, what, 54? Is the church giving him a good retirement?"

"Not much. But he apparently has some money saved up that he inherited from his first wife. She had a little family money. So we'll get an annuity and we'll be fine. And writing a novel is certainly better than having an affair or buying an expensive sports car. But he's going to drive me crazy, being home all day. So if you need more babysitting, you let me know. I'll make the trip out to Arlington."

"We should take her up on that offer someday," Eric said as they drove back home. He reached out and squeezed her knee. "I know football season's been real busy. I know I owe you some time."


	71. December 1992: Old Friends, A New Year

**[Thursday, December 17]**

Eric got a substitute teacher and took two days of leave before winter break started. Tami was surprised. As careful a planner as he seemed to be, she thought he would hold onto that leave in case he really needed it later. Perhaps football season had wiped him out. "I gotta burn that leave somehow," he told her, "And I can't get any work out of those kids two days before Christmas break anyway. Besides, I need some daddy daughter time."

So on Tami's Thursday off, Eric took Andrew and Julie to the Science Place in Dallas, where he expected them to spend most of the day digging for fossils. Meanwhile, Tami met her old college roommate for lunch at a Czech bakery in West, Texas, which was about thirty minutes from Gretchen's apartment and an hour from Tami.

"Who would expect a rest stop at a gas station to have such fantastic kolaches?" Gretchen asked as she devoured her third. She looked different to Tami. She'd grown her hair longer and was dressed quite professionally, and her make-up was less bold. She also seldom swore now.

"They do have a sizable Czech population here," Tami said.

"Y'all coming to the John Hancock Bowl?" The Bears would be playing Arizona at Sun Bowl Stadium. It would be Stumpy's last college football game.

"I don't think so," Tami said. "Eric would love to see the game, but that's over an eight hour drive to El Paso one way. We'd have to pay for gas and get a hotel. We can't even afford a hotel for our anniversary this weekend."

"How many years is it now? Three?"

Tami nodded.

"Hard to believe. Time flies."

"Tell Stumpy we're sorry, we'd love to see him play, but we think, with Julie and all...we'll just have a quiet New Year's Eve at my father-in-law's."

"He offered Stumpy a job, after college, your father-in-law. I guess he's seriously grown his business. He's renovating an entire apartment complex? Needs a mechanical engineer for the HVAC or something?"

"I don't know the details. I just know he's doing really well for himself."

"Stumpy's thinking about it." Gretchen pulled the coffee to herself. "He's played a lot better this season, but he doesn't expect to get drafted. He'll finish his degree in the spring, and then maybe go to work for Mr. Taylor. I'm not sure what I'll do if he takes that job, though."

"You don't think you'll follow him to Dallas?" Tami asked. It would be nice to have a friend just thirty minutes away.

Gretchen shrugged. "I have a great job already. But this thing _is_ getting serious. He's moving in with me after Christmas."

Tami raised an eyebrow. "Really? I thought you didn't want to live with him."

Gretchen smiled slightly. "If I had someone to help pay the rent, I could save a little extra."

"So, if he moves to Dallas after graduation," Tami asked, "you'd just do the long distance thing?"

"I'm not quitting a job and packing up and moving without a marriage proposal, and I doubt I'm getting a marriage proposal."

"Do you _want_ a marriage proposal?" Tami asked with some surprise.

"Well...funny thing happened. I went and fell in love with the guy. I have no idea _why_. And _if_ I _am_ going to start making compromises, I think I better have some assurance he's still going to be there for a long time after I make them."

Tami pushed her coffee cup aside. "Does _he_ know you're thinking all this?"

"I don't want to say the word _marriage_ , Tami. For a guy, that's like jumping out from behind a door and shouting _Boo!_ He's gonna have a heart attack."

"I don't know. Stumpy's kind of...traditional. I mean, he comes from a big Catholic Italian family."

"He's a college football player. He's good-looking. Maybe not as good looking as Eric, but not bad at all. He's smart too. And funny. On top of all that, he's probably going to build himself a kick-ass career in engineering. He could have his pick of a lot of women. I don't think he's looking for a ball and chain right now."

"He's the one who wanted to move in with you," Tami reminded her.

"Move in, yeah," Gretchen said. "That's just the thing. He wants free milk."

"You see him wanting to move in as a lack of seriousness on his part?"

"Eric didn't want to _move in_ with you. He wanted to _marry_ you."

"Only because I was knocked up."

"Well, I'm not getting knocked up."

"Good call," Tami told her.

"And Eric would have proposed your senior year, baby or no baby. You know it."

They talked for an hour longer before Gretchen suggested going to the Dr. Pepper museum in Waco, which had opened last year. Both agreed the museum was a waste of the entry fee, although they did have fun laughing about the memorabilia and old movie posters, and they got a fix at the soda fountain afterward. Tami had a Pink Cow, which was made with Big Red and vanilla ice cream, and on her drive back to Arlington, she felt a little sugar buzzed.

 **[Friday, December 18]**

On Friday, Eric stayed home with Julie. He told Tami he had big plans for a tea party and a several of hours of game tape. Tami had a fulfilling but exhausting day of counseling sessions, and the traffic was awful on her way home. As she stopped and started her way through the continuing construction, she hoped Eric had started dinner. She suspected he had not, and that she would find him glued to his recliner, football on the television, Julie snacking on something unhealthy.

When she came through the apartment door, however, he not only had dinner on the table, but candles and champagne, and he had soft, romantic country music playing from the living room stereo.

Tami's eyes widened. "What's all this? Where's Julie?"

"You know what Sunday is, don't you?" Eric asked. He had on khaki pants and a dark green, button-down shirt that set off his hazel eyes. He'd _dressed up_ for her.

She smiled. "It's our anniversary. But that's in over a day. I wasn't expecting..." She looked at the breakfast nook again. He'd even put on a white tablecloth. "Where's Julie?"

"She's at your mother's in Tyler. I drove her there this morning, after our tea party. They're going to keep her all weekend. I'll go get her Monday morning. I can't afford to take you on an anniversary get away this year, so I thought we'd get away right here."

She took the few steps toward her husband, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. When she pulled back, he looked very pleased with himself. "Sometimes you surprise me," she said. "You can be very thoughtful and romantic."

"And that _surprises_ you?"

She chuckled.

"That's kind of offensive, babe."

"Well...you are a big, strong jock," she said with a teasing smile.

"And you hate that."

She toyed with the hair at the back of his neck. Their eyes smiled at one another. "Yeah, I hate all that virile, masculine, hard..." She leaned in and kissed him. Their tongues danced. Tami didn't know what food he'd put on the table, but she knew it was about to grow cold.

Somehow, she ended up sitting on the lowest kitchen counter, her panties pulled down, her high heels still on, Eric between her legs, her hands gripping the counter top, his hands gripping her hips, his name spilling repeatedly from her lips.

Later, he reheated the food, and they toasted themselves for surviving three married years together.

For the next two days, they turned their apartment into a resort. They took walks, hand-in-hand, on a path through the sparse woods behind their apartment. They pretended their bathtub was a hot tub, and filled it with bubbles and covered the rim with tea candles. They ordered take out as if they were ordering room service - pizza, Chinese food, and then subs. They cuddled on the couch and watched all of their VCR-ed episodes of the shows they didn't have time to watch during football season. And they made love anywhere and everywhere they wanted, without fear of interruption.

Eric would often surprise Tami on their anniversary in the years to come, and he would usually take her for the night to a fancy hotel or a bed and breakfast, and sometimes he would even take her out of town for two or three days, to Austin or San Antonio. But she would always remember that budget, at-home, third year anniversary celebration as her favorite.

 **[December 25, 1992]**

Christmas was hosted by the elder Taylors and attended by Tami's mother and Pastor John, but Shelley was going to her boyfriend's for the holiday.

"They've moved in together," Tami's mother muttered over dinner. "I don't understand these kids today. Living in sin. You and Eric _never_ did that."

Eric and Karen both seemed uncomfortable. Pastor John looked as if he had gone off into some other world within his mind, but Mr. Taylor appeared amused. He smiled into his water glass.

"No," Tami said, unwilling to let her mother rewrite history, "but Eric knocked me up pretty good before we were married, didn't he?"

"There's no need to go around mentioning _that_ , Tami," her mother insisted with a near gasp.

"Who wants wine?" Karen asked suddenly, and Mr. Taylor smiled at her. Karen winced, as though she'd suddenly remembered Tami's mother was a teetotaler.

"I'll have a glass, thank you," Pastor John said.

"John!" Tami's mother exclaimed. "You don't drink!"

"My love, I do drink. On occasion. I suppose it's time you knew, especially now that I'm working on my novel." Pastor John had officially retired as of December 15. He apparently didn't want to preach one last Christmas Eve sermon. "I might imbibe more often now."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I didn't drink publicly when I was a pastor because some of those parishioners can be so...petty. But I have some whiskey up in my study. Eric knows. I think he's hit it before."

Eric looked down at his plate.

"John!" Tami's mother explained. "Well I never...I..." She shook her head.

"Just a nip here and there, dear. Nothing to get excited about. Truly. Don't worry yourself."

"Don't worry myself? What else are you hiding from me?"

"Just your birthday present. It's in the same place as the whiskey."

Karen had disappeared and now reappeared with the wine bottle, which she handed to her husband, along with a corkscrew, to open. Meanwhile, she pulled wine glasses down from the hutch.

"Well!" Tami's mother exclaimed. She sat back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. She scowled at her husband, who smiled back at her, a smile that was partly affectionate, partly wearied, partly challenging, and partly afraid. Their relationship was still a mystery to Tami.

Karen began to pour, catching Mr. Taylor's eye as she did so. He suppressed a chuckle.

Tami's mother sighed. "I suppose you might as well pour me one too, Karen."

"What?" Tami and Eric asked in unison.

Tami's mother threw up a hand. "If you can't beat them, join them."

Two glasses of wine later, Tami's mother was saying, "Good Lord, Garrett, I had such a crush on you after that first time you came over to fix those things around my house. Just the look of you in those dark jeans and that tight shirt and that tool belt! I mean, good Lord!"

Eric grew wide eyed and seemed to freeze in place. Karen studied the sediment in her empty wine glass. Pastor John narrowed his eyes at Mr. Taylor, who appeared flattered, embarrassed, and amused. Tami sprung up from the dining room chair. "Mom, why don't you and I go for a little walk?" she suggested. "Get some fresh winter air?"

"Indeed," Pastor John muttered underneath his breath.

[ **December 31, 1992]**

Tami and Eric rang in the New Year at the home of the elder Taylors. Andrew was walking confidently now and doing his best to keep up with Julie. They watched the bowl game which was televised on CBS. Stumpy got quite a lot of playtime.

"He's much improved. He's a good learned. That's why I think he'll make a fine employee."

"Did he say yes?" Eric asked.

"Not yet," Mr. Taylor said. "But I extended a favorable offer. I'm sure he will, once he graduates in May. I certainly hope so, anyway, because the project I need him for starts in June."

"You won the bid?" Eric asked.

"Not yet. But I will."

Karen chuckled. "Confidence is sexy, darling, but so is humility."

"I _will_ win the bid," Mr. Taylor said, "but then I'll bring my paycheck home to the beautiful wife I don't deserve."

Karen leaned over and rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek, made through her laughter.

"Oh yeah!" Eric shouted, standing from the arm chair where he'd been sitting. Mr. Taylor leaned forward. Stumpy had just caught a forward pass and was headed for the end zone.

"Tooch-dow!" Andrew shouted when he saw his father cheer.

"Do you know that was his first word?" Mr. Taylor asked. "Touchdown?"

"It was not," Karen insisted. "His first word was mama."

"No, he said touchdown three weeks before he said mama," Mr. Taylor insisted.

The Bears won the bowl game, 20 to 15, but before they did, both Andrew and Julie fell asleep, Andrew belly down on the living room floor, and Julie across Eric's lap, legs draped over the armchair. Mr. Taylor went to get the champagne at a quarter til midnight.

"Is that the champagne you bought when you thought I was going to make it to the NFL?" Eric asked when his father brought the bottle to the living room.

"No," Karen told him. "We drank that months ago for our third anniversary."

Eric looked at Tami and smiled. He was no doubt thinking of their own celebration of _their_ third anniversary. Tami blushed a little at the memories they'd made that weekend and smiled back.

"We'll need to buy another one when you finish up your degree," Mr. Taylor told Karen. Then he addressed Eric and Tami: "She's going to be doing her residency at Texas Presbyterian." He squatted down and tickled Andrew gently awake.

Andrew stirred and murmured.

"Ball's about to drop, Drew, my boy," Mr. Taylor said. "You want to see it?"


	72. January - April 13: Looking Forward

**A/N:** I know this will disappoint some, but I am going to have to wrap this story up. It's over 130,000 words now! I originally planned to end this story with Eric and Tami graduating from college and Eric getting his first job, but somehow it kept rolling past that point, and I've had trouble finding a natural ending, but I think this will be a decent enough round-up point. Some day, I may revisit this backstory and bring some of the characters here (such as Eric's dad and Andrew) into the show's timeline. But it's time to draw this one to a close. Thanks for reading, and please comment!

 **[Monday, April 26, 1993]**

Eric sat in a recliner he'd picked up in March from the Salvation Army. He was grading history papers and half watching ESPN, because it was draft day.

Tami was sitting on the couch, reading a book about how to relate to teenagers. Julie, who would be three in less than three months, was sitting on the floor by the coffee table, humming and coloring. She was talking in complete sentences now, sometimes paragraphs. Her speech had taken off dramatically over the past two months. She still said her r's like w's, but, other than that, she had all of her sounds in already. At the playground, people kept asking Tami how old she was.

Eric shook his head and wrote something in red pen. "What an idiot," he said. "This kid couldn't even get 20 percent on a multiple choice test of 50 questions by guessing."

"I could," Julie said.

"I bet you could, Monkey Noodle."

"Are you expecting any Bears to be drafted today?" Tami asked him.

"The Broncos supposedly want Bonner. Stumpy's automatically eligible by now, and he played fantastic last season. but given that he didn't even get invited to the Combine, he's not expecting to make it."

"I know. I talked to Gretchen a week ago."

"They're still dating?"

"They're _living_ together, now, sugar. I told you that back in December."

"Oh. Yeah."

She shook her head, marveling that he could not remember that. "What did you and Stumpy even _talk_ about the last time he called you?"

"Football." Eric circled a grade on the paper he was working on, put it at the bottom of the stack, and began scanning the next one.

 _And pick #292 of the draft for the New York Giants goes to – well, now, this is quite unexpected_ , said the ESPN announcer on the TV.

Eric put his papers aside on the end table near his recliner.

 _This individual was graded 'will not be drafted' by the College Advisory Committee. I don't think anyone saw this coming._

Eric popped his recliner shut and leaned forward, watching eagerly.

"Who are they talking about?" Tami asked.

"I don't know. They need a wide receiver, though."

 _Well, he is a New York boy by birth and breeding_ , the other announcer said.

Eric stood up.

 _The next pick of the draft goes to the fifth-year, Baylor Bear's tight end Giovani Ki-ay, Ki- how do you say this?_

"Caiazzo, you idiot!" Eric shouted, with a huge smile on his face.

 _Chaw-az-zo, I think_ , the other announcer said.

 _Giovani Chow-as-zo of the Baylor Bears!_ The announcer shook his head. _Well, I bet his family and friends are happy today._

Tami and Eric laughed and embraced.

"What happened?" Julie asked.

"You remember Uncle Stumpy?" Eric asked her.

"Maybe," she said.

"Well, he's going pro!" Eric kissed Tami with excitement. "I've got to call him and congratulate him. Do you have their apartment number? I only have his cell phone."

Tami wondered when _they_ were going to get cell phones.

They both went to the kitchen, leaving Julie alone with the crayons – never a good idea with a preschooler. They called Gretchen's apartment, and stood face to face, the phone between them, so they could both hear and talk.

Gretchen answered. "Stumpy hasn't stopped yelling since they announced it," she said. "I think I'm going to go deaf."

"I stopped long enough to propose!" Stumpy shouted in the background.

"Yeah. Okay. You did," Gretchen agreed.

"Wait. What?" Tami asked. "Are you two getting married?"

"Might as well," Gretchen replied. "I mean, he is going to be making a shitload of money, right big boy?"

"A shitload!" Stumpy shouted in the background. "We're going to need a prenup!"

"Romantic, sweetheart," Gretchen said. "Very romantic." She returned her attention to the phone. "New York does have some interesting culture. I wouldn't mind living there. Shock everyone when I look like I look but talk like a Texan."

Stumpy came to the phone. "Eric, man, I'm sorry. You deserved it more than I do."

Eric put the phone to only his ear now. "Nah, man. You had a great season last fall. You deserve this. By the way, can I borrow a couple hundred?"

Tami could hear Stumpy's laugh filtering through the phone. She didn't hear what he said, though.

"I don't know," Eric replied. "You know, the CAC isn't always right about those grades." He paused. "Congratulations. On the draft _and_ your engagement." Pause. "Nah. I don't think you're crazy to marry her. I mean…if she makes you happy." He looked at Tami and smiled. "It's good to be with someone you love. Hell, better even than being in the NFL." Pause. A chuckle. "Yeah, a quarter of a million doesn't hurt." Pause. "Sure I will. Just don't have it during football season." Pause. He handed the phone to Tami. "Gretchen wants to talk to you."

Gretchen asked if Tami would be her maid of honor, to which she replied with a strong affirmative. "It's probably going to be an alternative wedding, though," she said.

"What does that mean, exactly?" Tami asked.

"I was thinking we might do a Goth theme."

Stumpy came on the line. "She's full of shit, Tami. We're having a traditional Catholic wedding. With all 40 of my cousins in attendnace. And she's going to agree because I'm going to take her on whatever honeymoon she wants, and we're going to throw cash in the bed and roll in it."

Tami laughed. Gretchen came back on the line, and they talked awhile longer before exchanging goodbyes. When Tami hung up the phone, she wrapped her arms around Eric's neck and kissed him. "Better than the NFL, huh?" she asked.

"We have good life," he told her. "I didn't hope to be here…I had a fantasy of being in the NFL, but...I didn't know how good an ordinary life could be."

Tami kissed his lips. "There's nothing ordinary about _us_ ," she said. "We've got something special."

 **[April 27]**

The next evening, Tami came home from work with a bottle of sparkling white wine and invited Eric to the balcony after Julie was in bed.

"Are we celebrating Stumpy getting drafted?" he asked.

"That and maybe something else," she said. "The director said the ministry will pay for me to take a couple of classes a semester, if I want to slowly work on my master's."

Eric turned his gaze from the trees, which were shedding yellow and brown leaves, to her. "In psychology?"

She shook her head. "In administration."

"Why administration?"

"They want to groom me to replace the assistant director. She'll be retiring in two years. I'd still get to continue counseling two days a week, but then I'd _also_ be doing work on the administrative end three days a week."

"Administration," Eric repeated, sounding a little confused.

"Well, I think maybe I have a natural knack for administration. I mean, I had some big ideas back when I was a secretary at the Baylor Admissions Office too."

He smiled. "You always do have big ideas, babe. Lots and lots of ideas."

"So maybe I should nurture that gift, grow it, even if I _think_ I'd rather be counseling. And this way I can do a little of _both_. I can continue counseling and also assist with the admin stuff. It would be a full-time job. But Julie will be in kindergarten by the time I start doing that. Until then, I could keep working part-time."

He looked both proud and doubtful at the same time. He had an expression as though he thought she might be pulling a prank on him. "They _already_ want to groom you for that position? After less than a year of working for them?"

She shrugged. "I've made some suggestions to streamline some things for the counseling ministry. The director found them to be helpful. He was _very_ impressed."

Eric laughed. "You just needed a chance. Someone gives you a chance, and you prove yourself right away." He snapped his fingers. "It's a lucky person who takes a chance on you."

She smiled. "Well, I'm glad you took a chance on me back in high school."

He leaned in a little closer. "I'm glad I did too," he whispered.

They kissed for awhile. She pulled away and asked. "So what do you think? About me going back to school?"

"Hell, if they're paying for it, go for it. When it's not football season, I'll be home more. You can do evening and Saturday classes. Just take two in the spring and two in the summer, but none in the fall. I need you in the fall."

"You need me all the time, sugar."

"Well, can't argue with that. But I _need_ you in the fall."

"That could work," she said. "I could get all 36-credits in three years that way. But they said if they're going to pay for my degree, I have to commit to work for them for _at least_ a _full year_ after that. That locks us in here for the next four years. What if you have to move for a better coaching opportunity?"

"I like where I'm working. I think I can be varsity QB coach in a year or two. So I'm not looking to move."

"What if someone offers you a job in Houston or Austin or some other city that's really appealing to you?" she asked. "I know you want to move up to a higher division. If a job like that comes your way, I don't want to start this degree and not finish, or have to back out of my commitment and pay the ministry back for tuition."

"Tami, this is a great opportunity for you. Stuff like this doesn't fall in people's laps every day. Look, I'll promise you four years in this area. Maybe I won't stay at Bowie, but I promise I'll stay in the area. Maybe I'll end up at a school in Dallas or Fort Worth, but we can live halfway and commute. We aren't staying in this apartment forever anyway."

"Four years?" she asked.

He nodded. "But then if after that something better does come along for me somewhere else - "

"- We'll follow the coaching job."

"Is that fair?" he asked.

She nodded. "I think that's fair."

He raised his glass to her. "Can we officially toast now?"

She smiled and raised her glass.

"To my beautiful, brilliant wife, who is going to be an...assistant director?" When Tami nodded, he concluded, "To you, babe, and to this opportunity."

They toasted and sipped.

She set her glass down on the table. "It's good to be moving toward something."

He set his glass down and took her hand between their chairs. He squeezed it. "Moving toward something together," he said. "That's what makes it feel so good."

She smiled back at him, stood, and took the two steps over to ease herself onto his lap. His arms enveloped her, and he breathed in her scent.

It felt so very right to be here, Tami thought, on this tiny balcony attached to the cheap apartment they called home. It was a simple moment, but a perfect one. While her daughter slept soundly and safely inside, Tami was where she belonged, in her husband's arms, with the challenges of the past behind her, and the future stretching out before her like a tapestry of possibilities.

 **THE END**


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